Second Chances
by Zaxarus
Summary: James Potter's secret, Sirius Black's letter and a meeting with a Slytherin lady will change Harry's life forever. How will his friends and foes react when friendship and love blossom between the golden boy and the ice queen? parings HP/DG, HG/NL. Happens after the PoA.
1. Chapter 1 Second Chances

_**A/N**_

_This is a story about Harry and his second chance to be happy and have a real family. Following the events of "Prisoner of Azkaban" Harry learns a secret about his father that could allow him to leave the Dursleys. Will he give it a try even with the new family belonging to the dark side? And how will his friends react?_

_In a way this will be about a marriage contract but not in the usual way. I intend to write about the events of year 4 and 5 (Tournament and OotP), with year 5 told in a sequel. _

_**Pairings:**__ Harry/Daphne and Hermione/Neville, a bit of Tracey/Blaise (no HP/HG/DG Triangle, but a very important Hermione as Harry's best friend). Warning: The pairings starts very slow, no wild snogging sessions starting from chapter 3._

_**Hint:**__ I hope that I'll be able to avoid the trap of "Harry-Lord-Potter-Black, heir of Gryffindor, almighty politician and ruler-of-them-all" I've seen way too often in HP-DG-stories. The Harry of this story will evolve, grow in power and confidence, but even at the end he'll not be infallible. _

_If you prefer a __**Harry**__ who is able to solve every problem himself, is the perfect wizard, administrator and politician all in one, then this story won't be to your liking. He'll have his own strengths and talents, but still need his friends and family. And the __**Daphne**__ of this story will be a bit bitchy towards Harry in the beginning and will only change in the course of the story. She has her reasons to behave like that. So: No sweet harmony from the beginning, sorry._

**.**

**Second Chances**

_Little Whinging – July 1994_

On most other days Harry's mood would have been far darker on his way from the Dursleys's house to the small and old shack inhabited by Arabella Figg, an old lady who shared her home with nearly a score of cats of all shapes and sizes. The black-haired boy really disliked to be there. The lady was more than a bit weird; she seemed to like her cats more than any human and she was always surround by a cloud of smell, an unpleasant mix of mothballs and slightly rotten food. Add to this the all rooms permeating 'odor' of cat litter and you can imagine his urge to stay away from her home.

But not today. The last weeks had been more than a bit unusual. He had met his godfather and for an hour he had hoped to get away from this horrible place and Aunt Petunia's horrific family. For an hour Harry had dared to hope to have a new life, a life with someone who liked him, who saw 'Harry' and not some freak, responsible for his mother's death.

His hope had died with Lupin changing into a werewolf, distracting them long enough to allow Peter Pettigrew to get away. How he would love to get his hands on that traitor and kill him slowly and most painfully. But the 'rat' vanished and nobody believed them, nobody believed that Peter was still alive and had been the traitor a decade ago and not Sirius Black. And so Sirius had to hide again and Harry was back here in Little Whinging.

Two days ago he'd got a letter from him. With wide eyes Harry had stared at the letter and ignored the hue and cry of Uncle Vernon about stupid owls. The content of the letter had been weird but nonetheless it was the reason that Harry was on his way to Mrs. Figg now with butterflies the size of full-grown doves in his stomach.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you're well. I'm so sorry that I had to go away again, that I can't give you the home you deserve. I really wanted to be with you._

_But I have news for you and I hope they'll be good. I've spoken with someone and the person wanted to see you. In two days at tea-time you're expected at the home of Mrs. Figg. Yes, I mean the cat-lady you already know. Someone will be there, waiting. Please be kind and give that person a chance._

_And don't tell anybody about this in the meantime._

_Sirius_

.

A broad smile appeared on Harry's face as he noticed his welcome party on the small stone wall beside the garden gate. Sitting there, the eyes half closed and obviously enjoying the sunbeams sat a medium-sized tomcat with a black-white fur. Two years ago Harry had found the tomcat at the roadside, grievously injured by a car. Attending a very distraught Arabella Figg he had heard the veterinarian speaking about the foreseeable death of the small rascal and that they should spare him the pain.

But Mrs. Figg didn't want to hear anything about that and started to nurture him back with her own house-brewed medicine. The smell had been awful but Harry – who had helped her in that time – watched him leave the line of death and a few weeks later he was as good as ever. Since then Balou – as the tomcat had been called because of his very soft and thick fur and his cuddly behavior – had been there waiting for him every time the Dursleys 'lent' him to Mrs. Figg to watch her cats.

"Hello, Balou," Harry fondled him behind the ears, smiling but still a bit troubled about the question who would be waiting for him in the house and why that person was waiting in Mrs. Figg's house of all things. "I'm sorry; I've no sausage for you this time. Dudley …" Harry's smile broadened as Balou's showed a face as near to disgust as possible for a cat.

Without looking back – knowing that Balou would follow him inside – he went to the door, the wood being painted the last time certainly more than a decade ago, and knocked hesitantly. As the door opened he saw a very unusual sight in form of a Mrs. Figg with red and puffed eyes. Without a word the small lady clasped him in her arms and hugged him heartily.

"I'm so sorry, Harry," she sobbed. "I … I didn't know."

Pushing him a bit away she started to wipe her eyes with an old, bleached out handkerchief and blew her nose heartily. Harry had no idea what she was speaking about. _Sorry? Sorry about what?_

Patting his arm a last time she waved him to go into her living room and – to his surprise – left the house and closed the door behind her. For some minutes Harry stood there, pondering about going into the room or fleeing from the house. Only the sight of Balou patiently waiting beside the door convinced him to give this a try. It really got weirder and weirder by the minute.

.

As he slowly opened the door the tomcat rushed inside. He hopped onto a chair and then on the table, and graciously walked over towards the farther end, only to lie down on a heap of papers in front of a lady sitting there.

_Lady_ – that was the only word coming up in his mind as he saw her: around her mid-thirties with long black hair and intensive grey eyes, very beautiful with a long neck and delicate hands. She was sitting there very upright in a pale blue gown, sparse jewelry accentuating her beauty. Harry was sure he didn't know her but somehow she seemed familiar. His frown changed into a smile as he watched the lady look at Balou. With a soft and surprisingly warm voice she addressed the little rascal:

"You should know that I'm a dog person, little one. Do you think it is wise to crumple my papers in this way?"

The tomcat only glared at her curiously. With a sigh she started to fondle him with a bit insecure motions.

"His name is Balou," Harry's low voice broke the silence. She looked up and after another moment he added: "And I'm Harry Potter."

She held out her hand and as he grasped it – the skin being cool and as soft as expected but with a few unexpected calluses on the inside – she bowed her head slightly.

"I'm Roxanne Greengrass; it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I'm the mother of Astoria and Daphne Greengrass." Silently she stared at his eyes for a minute as if trying to see something special there. "And I'm your godmother."

.

His mind was in a haze as he reached the Dursleys home three hours later. Ignoring the questions of his Aunt and the nagging of his Uncle he went to his room and closed the door behind him. Could this be real? The papers in his jacket's pocket seemed to prove it but he was still struggling to believe.

Lady Greengrass seemed to be nice enough. But she was a pureblood witch from a very old family and a Slytherin to add as were her daughters and her husband. Could she be trusted? He never encountered a friendly or trustworthy or in any way positive Slytherin before. All his encounters with members of that house had been more or less unpleasant. But then there was this second letter of Sirius:

"… _Trust her. She is a kind and honest one. Without her your father hadn't been able to marry your mother …"_

She told him the same. "Had the history been a bit different, I could have been your mother now."

Apparently there had been a marriage contract between her parents and his grand-parents, arranging a marriage between Roxanne Greengrass née Pinegrew and James Potter. Both teenagers had been only eleven as the arrangement had been made and they hardly knew each other. Their mothers had both been in Ravenclaw and very dear friends back then and the contact hold firm until Harry's grand-parents had been killed thirteen years ago. Both families – the Potters and the Pinegrews – had been old and quite rich but without much political influence as both heads of the household had avoided the snares of political bickering and bribery. With the Potters always leaning to 'the light' there hadn't been very many promising matches for James Potter and the Pinegrews had always been at least neutral in the conflict despite the growing pressure around them.

But then on a fateful day James Potter met Lily Evans and within a few months it became clear – at least to him – that this would be the girl he wanted to marry. For more than six years she rejected him before she gave in to his constant wooing at last. With his parents unhappy about the development Roxanne – to James' relief – not only stepped back from the contract but actually helped him to convince his parents to allow a love marriage with a Muggleborn.

The arrangement had been dissolved and replaced by another one containing points about friendship and help between the houses and most importantly stating that they would be godparents to each other's children. This way James Potter became godfather of Daphne Greengrass and Roxanne Greengrass godmother of Harry Potter. About her husband she didn't say much and Harry had the impression that there wasn't much love between the couple. And he had a hunch that there was more about those contracts than she had said today.

"In the beginning we often saw each other: James, Lily, you, me and Daphne. But the conflict increased and my parents feared for our lives. Your grand-parents had been killed and my husband Cyrus … he has never been a Deatheater but he is an old friend of the Malfoys'. It simply was too dangerous for both families and so …"

For a moment she struggled, her eyes gleaming with tears. "As I heard about your parents' death and Sirius' betrayal … even Dumbledore seemed to believe that he had betrayed your father. Only a week ago I heard the real story about Pettigrew. I never liked him but the same time I never expected that."

"Why have you never tried to contact me before?" Harry asked, more curious than angry and still shocked by the news.

Roxanne sighed: "I wanted to accept you into my family, to rear you as a kind of Daphne's brother – James and I had spoken about that in case of Sirius being unable to do that. But Headmaster Dumbledore – he said that this would be too dangerous, partly because of my husband. He said that you would be secure with your Aunt, that you would have a loving home there." She flinched shortly as Harry grimaced. "I didn't know where you lived until you entered Hogwarts and then …"

She hesitated for a moment. "Daphne told me about you. That you'd been sorted into Gryffindor like your father, that you have found friends there and … that you've some problems with Slytherins." Roxanne smiled weakly: "It seemed that you didn't need me and perhaps you wouldn't want to get to know me."

Harry sat silent in Mrs. Figg's living room, pondering about what Roxanne Greengrass had said. In a way she had been right. There wasn't much love between the houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin. Without the letters of Sirius it would be much more difficult to gain his trust about this. And it wasn't her fault that he tried to make a show of 'all-is-right-at-home' in Hogwarts. Even Hermione and Ron didn't know all what happened in the Dursley home. He had only told Sirius the whole ugly story in a moment of sappy farewell.

"Why did we meet here? And why now?"

Patiently she explained: "Mrs. Figg is a squib. Headmaster Dumbledore told Sirius about her and her mission to watch you. Obviously she failed to see what's happening at the house of your Aunt. Sirius told me about you and the Dursleys. You're quite unhappy there, aren't you?"

Harry sat very still, only blinking, his mind racing. Dumbledore told her about a loving home? Mrs. Figg had the mission to watch him and didn't realize what happened? Her sorrow seemed to be real enough and he believed the old lady. But should he tell this Lady Greengrass – his godmother, he realized again with a confused mind – how life had been at the Dursleys? He hesitated, his fear to be pitied, to be seen as weak and tainted struggled with his hope that this … hope that this would be what? An escape?

"Harry?" Her eyes held not pity, no disgust, only friendliness and a hint of regret.

Fear tried to suppress any word but deep within he knew: Should he deny this opportunity, should he stay silent now, he would regret it forever. And so he told her …

.

_**A/N:**_

_The first chapters are a bit short (2k words). Starting with chapter 6 they'll get longer. _


	2. Chapter 2 Sweet Sisters

**Sweet Sisters**

_Pinegrew Manor – July 1994_

Harry tried hard not to gawk too openly. He wasn't sure what he had expected but certainly not this.

Four days ago Roxanne – before parting she bade him to call her Roxanne and forget about the 'Lady Greengrass stuff' – had asked him to think about her proposal. "I think we should take this slowly. Perhaps you could spend the rest of the summer break with my family and me."

Harry was still pondering about the 'why', about the reasoning of her sudden interest. Too often he had experienced the duplicity of the Slytherins and then there was this nagging feeling that Roxanne hadn't told him the whole story about the contract. But she seemed to be nice enough and really: Could it be worse than with his Aunt Petunia? He needed only one night or more precisely one breakfast with the Dursleys to reach a conclusion: He would give it a try. As agreed he had sent Hedwig to Roxanne and three days, a shouting discussion and a heavy purse – _for all the trouble you had with him and as a settlement for the medical bills_ – handed to Vernon Dursley later she had picked him up.

The feeling to sit in Roxanne's car – she called it a Bentley or something like that – to feel the soft leather cushion, to see Little Whinging vanish in the distance – it was simply dazzling. Hedwig was sleeping in her bird cage, undisturbed by the whole event, and Balou tried to fetch Harry's hand with his small paw. Balou – that had been another point of joy this morning. As Harry entered the car the small tomcat had greeted him.

"I've spoken with Mrs. Figg. She wanted to do you something good. She's really sorry about not seeing how you were treated all these years. If you wish he may stay with you this summer. But you'll be responsible for his behavior and his care." Without hesitation he agreed and his open joy was greeted by a small smile on Roxanne's lips.

.

"First I want to introduce you to my family. Ciddy will show you your rooms later."

_Rooms? He would have rooms as in 'more than one'?_ Shortly he glanced at the petite house elf. Ciddy wore to his surprise a kind of house maid uniform as he had seen it in the TV. She seemed quite happy to see him and especially Roxanne. Now she went to the stairs – the magically flying cages of Hedwig and Balou circling her small frame like little moons – while Roxanne led him towards a door at the end of the entrance hall. As they had neared the manor Harry noticed that it consisted of a round central building and three wings.

The marble floor, the splendid chandelier and the sheer height of the hall told of the family's wealth. To his relief it wasn't in the colors of Slytherin as he had feared and the hall was far brighter than expected. Prominent colors were blue and bronze and after some moments of thinking about that he realized that this would be the Ravenclaw house colors.

"My mother fashioned most of Pinegrew Manor. It still belongs to her and hadn't been part of my dowry," Roxanne explained, obviously noticing his surprise. "Only the western wing had been changed into a Slytherin's den. There my husband resides. You'll stay with me in the eastern wing." A blue room, he could live with that, Harry pondered.

.

Three persons expected them as they entered the tea salon. At the central table Harry saw a man in his mid-forties, short with broad shoulders and a tummy. A single glance at his face convinced him that man was a friend of Lucius Malfoy: The same sneer, the same haughtiness, with a tad of disgust to add. A girl of twelve years in a pale green frill dress hopped from her chair, walked to Harry and offered her small hand: "Hello Harry, I'm Astoria Greengrass and I'm happy to make your acquaintance." She pressed a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes and the tone of her voice made it clear how happy she really was about his presence.

The last person in the room was … beautiful. Sitting at a small table near a tall window overlooking the garden was Daphne Greengrass. She shared the black hair and grey eyes of her mother and overall seemed to be a younger copy of her mother. Nothing about her bore any resemblance to her father. She wore beige-colored pants, ending a handbreadth above her ankles. Her bare feet in simple slippers, a midnight blue satin shirt accentuating her shoulders and her small breasts, she was a sight to behold. Before this moment Harry had never seen her that close and he felt himself blush.

At least until she let the heavy book sink – _some light lecture for the afternoon_, Harry heard the voice of Hermione in his mind – and stared at him, her eyes like she would see an especially disgusting insect. For a moment she stayed silent before she left her chair, the book under her arm, and went towards the door. "Would you please excuse me? I've much homework to do." _Wonderful_, Harry groaned.

.

The next hour certainly belonged to the worst he had experienced so far. Cyrus Greengrass had asked him some questions about his life, showing that he heard about the events in the last years, his knowledge obviously influenced by the opinion of Lucius Malfoy. Especially the point of Dobby's freedom seemed to be a sour one and he had been warned not to try something similar in Greengrass Manor. "Pinegrew Manor," Roxanne had corrected him with a cold voice, causing Harry to smile, Astoria to frown and Cyrus to leave the room. Astoria had been polite enough but it occurred to Harry to be only a question of manners and not sympathy or simple overall friendliness.

"Sorry about them," Roxanne whispered as they ascended the stairs to the eastern wing. "They're still struggling with the thought of your presence. They will get better … Astoria at least." Marching past the pictures of the Pinegrew ancestors Roxanne pointed to some of the doors. "At the end of the corridor there are my rooms. Yours are on the left. And here …"

She opened a door and led him into a five by seven yard living room, the wall opposite the door nearly in whole consisting of three large windows which allowed the sun to illuminate the room. The other walls were hidden behind dozens of book shelves only broken by a number of pictures showing Hogwarts in different seasons, Roxanne, Astoria, an elder woman that could be Roxanne's mother and a girl that looked familiar to Harry. All pictures had been painted in water colors or were sketches in coal, and seemed to be relatively new.

Looking up from her papers she had been writing on, the table covered with books, the same disgusted look on her face was Daphne. _And I thought that statement about homework had only been an excuse_, Harry smiled inwardly.

"I have something to do until dinner and would like you two to spend some time together. Have a nice afternoon." Before Harry had time to respond or Daphne to disagree Roxanne left the room, leaving the two teenagers behind in uneasy silence. After several minutes of silent glaring Daphne groaned very unladylike and pointed towards a chair across the table: "Sit down," she ordered, her bossy tone somehow very familiar. She reminded him strongly of Hermione in the moment – a very annoyed Hermione.

While Harry complied she rummaged through her books, pushed some parchment and quills in his direction and growled: "I assume you haven't already finished your assignment for Professor Snape. Today I'm working on Charms so I don't need the books. Go on and please try to be not too much of a nuisance."

Without waiting for a response she went back to work. Harry glanced at the books and parchment before he started to watch the girl again. Being nearer than before and having time to examine he noticed the differences to her mother. The neck wasn't quite as slender and long, the shoulders a bit broader, her arms more muscular but of the athletic, sportive kind, not like she would be working physically. As she browsed a book he saw the same kind of callouses on her hand he had noticed on Roxanne.

Without looking up Daphne snarled: "It is quite impolite to stare at a lady."

Harry looked down, grabbed a book and started to browse it quite clueless. For a moment the question '_where's a lady_?' crossed his mind but he stayed silent. He didn't want to start his visit with a fight. And perhaps she wasn't that bad after a while.

Another sigh of Daphne, then she fetched the book, searched the correct page about the effects of a Bezoar and more or less smashed it down in front of him. "There you go," she growled. Harry hadn't to look up to 'see' her deep and disgusted frown. He suppressed a sigh. _She really has to make this difficult_.

After some moments of silence she continued, struggling to keep her voice smooth: "Look, I'm as excited about your presence as you are about living here. I'm only not as 'well-behaved' as my sister and try to appear otherwise. I have no idea what my mother was thinking to invite you or why she had this preposterous idea about us spending time together. It's quite obvious that she somehow hopes us to bond over homework or something similar. It is not likely that we'll exchange a single word at Hogwarts in the future with the usual tension between the brave Gryffs and the evil Slytherins, don't you agree? So why don't you try to do something useful and spend your time preparing for next school year? You certainly need it and this way we can avoid to speak with each other."

Harry stared at her, unsure how to respond. Why did she hate him so much? And why was she thinking that he didn't want to be here? Perhaps it had been a stupid idea to come to Pinegrew Manor. Nobody wanted him here – at least nobody aside from Roxanne and perhaps Ciddy. But he didn't want to give in so early and at least she had been correct about the Potions' assignment. With a sigh he started to read. "Yes, Hermione," he whispered more to himself, his thoughts wandering to the bushy head that more than once urged him to work more diligently. He didn't see the confused look on Daphne's face, slowly changing into the smallest of smiles.

.

"We have bigger rooms but I thought this is more to your taste – cozier. Over there is your bathroom, to the left your bed-room and the small door leads to a closet. I thought about walking you to Harrods tomorrow. These clothes of yours" she looked with the smallest hint of disgust at the ill-fitting pants. "I suppose they're hand-down from your cousin. If you don't disagree I would like to outfit you. Be assured, I don't want to change you into some 'Lord Fauntleroy' but …"

"I would like that," Harry assured her with an open smile. Roxanne had led him into his room after Dinner, releasing him from 'Daphne-prison' after some grueling hours. Her honest friendliness was all he needed to feel certain again about staying here. At least Daphne had been silent most of the time and while her eyes were still filled with disgust she had never said anything abusive and even helped him when he struggled with the assignment. She appeared to be quite good at Potions and had been able to explain the more difficult parts. At explanation she was even better than Hermione, who always struggled with the needed patience especially around Ron.

"She reminds me a bit of Hermione," Harry whispered. Detecting the smile on Roxanne's face he explained: "With all her books and her reading and how seriously she takes studying. It is like Hermione all over again. Hermione Granger I mean."

Roxanne nodded. "I thought that you meant her. She has been mentioned more than once in this house." Harry grimaced, thinking about what a Slytherin would have to say about his friend and a Malfoy-lover like Cyrus Greengrass to add. So he was quite stunned as Roxanne continued: "Daphne adores her because of these traits you mentioned. She wants to be like her."

"But … Hermione … she is a …"

"A what," Roxanne smiled: "A despicable Gryffindor?"

"A Muggleborn," Harry said, intoning the way Draco Malfoy used the word like a cuss "A witch unworthy to use magic at least in the eyes of certain Slytherins. Many of them even used this other word to describe her, to hurt her, irrespective of what a wonderful girl she is: Mudblood." His voice trembled with anger, his fists clenched as he thought about Malfoy and how much he envied Hermione for the chance to punch him into his arrogant face.

Her face petrified, her voice struggling with hot anger Roxanne scolded him: "You'll never again use this word in my house. I don't allow my husband to use it and certainly I won't allow it to anybody else. I stepped back from that marriage contract with your father to allow a muggle-born witch to replace me. You can be sure that neither I nor my daughters share this disgusting opinion."

"I … I'm s-sorry," Harry stuttered. "I didn't mean it that way." Naturally he didn't mean it that way. It only was the reaction, the opinion about his best friend he had encountered way too often speaking with Slytherins. He felt ashamed that he had assumed Daphne to share this opinion about bloodlines, assumed that this could be a reason for her behavior. He whispered: "Hermione is my best friend, my most loyal friend. She had been hurt with this cuss too often in the past. I feared …"

"That we would share these prejudices," Roxanne asked with a much more caring voice. Harry nodded weakly.

For a minute both were silent before he quietly asked: "Why … why does she hate me? Daphne I mean. She doesn't want me to be here."

Roxanne sighed. "It is difficult for her. She … no, it is not my place to explain that. You'll have to ask her that herself. Allow her some time to … catch up. But be assured: It's not hate that causes her to stay away from you. And ask yourself: Do you want to get to know her? Without your honest willingness to make friends with her she won't be willing to be more than an unwilling host." She stepped nearer and gently pressed Harry's shoulder: "But be assured: I'm happy to have you here. And I hadn't invited you if I wouldn't hope that one day you'll be friends with my daughters too."

It didn't need a genius to recognize the apparent missing of her husband's name in the sentence and Harry was still unsure about the answer to the question: Did he want to get to know her – the Ice Princess of Slytherin?

With a head heavy from all the new experiences Harry prepared for bed. He would ponder about that tomorrow.

.

_**A/N**_

_I need a bit of help. I'm searching for a word I've seen once in the HP-wiki. It is an older term for Muggle-born but not in the insulting kind of 'Mudblood'. Any idea?_


	3. Chapter 3 Muggle Days

_**A/N**_

_Thank you all for your help. There have been many usable suggestions (the best otherwise being "Newblood"), but the winner is:_

_Animeinvasion93: Yes, __**Magbob**__ had been the word. Thank you very much. I read it in a story and at first thought it had been invented by the author. But later I saw an article about it in the HP wiki. It stems from an Interview with JK Rowling and is meant as an older (and positive contrary to mudblood) term used for Muggleborn._

_._

**Muggle Days**

_Pinegrew Manor – 31__st__ of July_

He had been awake for more than an hour – reading. Yes, reading, voluntarily and even with joy. Hermione would certainly faint should he tell her about it. Harry smiled as he thought about his best friend. Ron would be his 'best mate', the boy he loved to spend time with, speak about Quidditch, girls and doing all those boyish things. But it was Hermione he thought about most often. How she had been his most loyal friend, always eager to help with homework, adventures or simply to break a bad mood or let him forget a nightmare.

In a few minutes he would leave his room and go down for breakfast. He had been at Pinegrew Manor for two weeks now and these days already belonged to the best holydays he ever had, irrespective of …

His relationship with Daphne hadn't improved very much. She still hated him or at least seemed to feel disgusted to have him around. That she spent time with him was only thanks to Roxanne and her pouting. Harry giggled – a bit too girly for his own liking but he couldn't help it. He had never expected to see a full-grown woman able to pout like this. And it broke any resistance Daphne was able to muster. She groaned, she growled but in the end she complied.

The days had followed the same muster so far: breakfast together at eight, thereafter four hours of intensive learning, partially with Roxanne but mostly alone. At 1 PM they had lunch and woe betide you if you weren't in time and with clean hands at the table. The afternoon they spent in Muggle London and it were these hours that Harry would always remember later.

Going to Harrods Roxanne had kept her word and restrained from buying overdressed clothes. Instead they went for jeans, t-shirts and a number of practical shoes inclusive two pairs of boots for winter time. It had been the first time he saw Daphne in those Muggle clothes and he had struggled not to ogle her too openly, not being very successful in it and certainly lowering her opinion about him another step. Why had she to be so damned beautiful? Last year he had started a little crush on Cho Chang, the Asian Ravenclaw seeker. She was one year older than Harry and certainly very attractive. _But Daphne_ … Harry sighed.

When Roxanne learned that Harry was more or less clueless about London – the Dursleys had seldom gone there and he had never been part of those voyages – she decided to correct this 'terrific culture lap'. Since then they had visited the Tower, gone by Buckingham Palace and Downing Street and even toured the wax museum of Madam Tussauds. There it had happened that he experienced a completely different side of Daphne. Obviously it hadn't been her first visit and equally obviously she liked to harass someone with her knowledge. And Harry proved to be a patient victim to her babbling, causing more than one happy but hidden smile on Roxanne's lips. It had been one of the few hours they had been how Harry hoped they would be all the time.

Like her way of studying this babbling, this urge to shout her knowledge with a speed of one hundreds mile an hour was something that reminded him intensively of Hermione. Harry had spent more than one hour comparing both girls. He was quite sure that Daphne wasn't near Hermione in pure intellect – but who was? But they shared this habit of structured working and losing themselves in books. And the plans – Harry had blinked unbelieving several times as he noticed the multi-colored working plans Daphne had created for her lessons. He had examined – under the confused stare of Daphne – the plans until he was sure that the words weren't written in Hermione's handwriting.

Daphne never spoke about her marks in Hogwarts aside from a 'they were adequate' but from what he saw he expected her to be an overall 'E' student at least with some 'O' thrown within. In their common lessons she always behaved like she would expect him to be not a very clever student – with reason he had to admit – and made quite a show of her astonishment if he was able to grasp something quickly. But she had always been willing to help and patiently explain and Harry was quite certain that after these weeks he was prepared for the next year better than ever before.

.

The clock stroke eight and Harry left his place leaving the book behind on the table and went down. He heard Roxanne and Daphne speaking with another woman. He knew that Astoria wouldn't be there, spending the rest of the summer break with the Malfoys. When he had asked whether she was Draco's girlfriend, Daphne had answered along the line and a bit vague 'something like that'. Her face had reminded Harry of a very sour lemon.

Thinking about Astoria and Draco Harry grimaced a bit. He would see them in three weeks to his grief. Daphne would celebrate her fourteenth birthday with a large garden party and invite all those 'very important people' he hated so much. Since he heard about that 'happy event' Harry thought about asking Roxanne to exempt him from the torture.

Birthday. Today was his own fourteenth birthday – the insight hit him suddenly and he hesitated for a moment. How could he forget? He had written to Hermione and Ron about a delayed party. They wanted to party when he went to the Burrows at the end of the summer break – something he had agreed upon with Roxanne. Harry had seen how reluctantly she thought about his parting in a few weeks. Like Daphne's disgust so was Roxanne's joy about his presence quite clear to him.

As he entered the breakfast room at last he noticed a woman around sixty and instantly remembered the picture in Daphne's room. He knew from Roxanne that Daphne had created those paintings herself and while she certainly wasn't a Picasso she clearly had a grasp for those details that made a person recognizable. For a second his eyes went to Balou. The tomcat had conquered the greatest part of the manor and while Roxanne still maintained her opinion to be a 'dog person' he had caught her – and to his astonishment Daphne – quite often fondling the happy tomcat or offering him treats.

"Harry," Roxanne greeted him and waved him at her side. "Let me introduce you to Lady Agatha Pinegrew, my dear mother. Mother, this is my godson Harry Potter."

Harry bowed slightly as he had learned. Roxanne had started to train him good behavior and – yuck! – dancing uttering her opinion that a young gentleman needed those things. Daphne hadn't even tried to suppress her sneer about the connection Harry-gentleman but had helped in the lessons nonetheless.

Now she watched with a face like Harry tried to steal something important from her as he exchanged a handshake with Lady Agatha. The lady seemed to be in a surprisingly good shape and her handgrip was quite firm. Her eyes – the same troubling grey her daughter and granddaughter shared – examined him intensely but not unfriendly. "Nice to meet you, Mr. Potter. I hope your stay at Pinegrew Manor had been pleasant so far."

.

Lady Agatha put her napkin on the table and smiled at Harry. "I think now it is time for the presents, don't you think so?" Seeing the shocked face of Harry she continued quite cheerfully: "You didn't really expect we would forget about that? But I hope you forgive us not to sing a birthday song. Singing is a talent our family has never been granted and we don't want to pain your ears with our shrieks."

Harry could only nod weakly and stare as Roxanne started to put some presents on the table, an illustrated book about London among them and vouchers for _Gladrags Wizardwear_ and _Honeydukes. _

Her voice a bit sad Lady Agatha put a picture book on the table. "I never had much contact to your parents but I thought that you would perhaps like to know more about James' mother. Your grandmother Cathryn had been a Ravenclaw like me and …" She brushed away a few tears and opened the book, pointing towards the pictures, explaining, showing, reliving those bygone days. To his surprise his grandmother didn't share his unruly black hair. Instead she had a long curly brown mane and from the pictures he got the impression that she had been quite a hoyden. On more than one picture he saw a younger Agatha, standing at Cathryn's side, linking arms or hugging, smiling. "She had been a very intelligent girl and quite lively. If you want I could tell you about her later." Agatha continued in a whisper: "but some of our adventure stories aren't meant for the ears of my daughter." Harry smiled happily and nodded.

But it was Daphne's present that surprised him the most. He would have expected some Hermione-like, perhaps a lesson planner, quills or a magical alarm clock but the size and form made it quite clear that this package would contain nothing like that. With trembling hands he carefully opened the package and found a sketch block, charcoals and a small book: "Sketching for Dummies". Harry grinned. In addition there was a portfolio with two dozen finished drawings from Daphne. The first one he recognized instantly. He had already adored the aquarelle in Daphne's room belonging to this drawing.

It showed Hermione, sitting in her favorite spot in the library, an old and worn chair near an even more used table, encompassed by books, parchment and paper in front of her and in her hands – Harry stared: _Hogwarts a History_. Harry had seen her sitting like this hundreds of times and even the expression of her face was correct, this mix of awe and compassion. Slowly and carefully Harry viewed every single sketch. There was one showing the black lake at dawn. Another one caused him to smile: Fred and George Weasley, sitting together, planning their next prank. Luna, sitting at Ginny's sickbed – he remembered quite well that moment at the end of the second year. Minerva, jumping from her pedestal as a cat, transforming in the air to land gracefully as a full-grown woman. But especially interesting was the one about the Patil twins. It showed a single girl with two sides fused into one person. Easy he was able to tell which half was meant to be the more airheaded Parvati and which showed the more serious Padma.

He was utterly speechless and only startled as Daphne asked with a hint of sorrow in her voice: "You don't like it?" Very carefully – like he feared to break it – Harry put the portfolio down and answered with a raspy voice: "It is … wonderful. The best birthday present I ever got." Daphne relaxed a bit only to stiffen as Harry suddenly hugged her heartily. "Thank you, Daphne, thank you so much."

"You're welcome," she said a bit constrained. "But could you please … I can't breathe."

Instantly he released her and stepped back, his face blushing even more than Daphne's. "Sorry."

.

"And where are we going now?" Harry asked not the first time, the answer no more helping than before. "You'll see."

After planning a birthday picnic for the afternoon and a light trip on the Thames in the evening they had left Pinegrew Manor. Now they sat in Roxanne's Bentley again, crossing Surrey and Harry only knew that 'it was time for a family tradition'. He had no idea about the destination and Agatha's questions about his fondness of flying didn't help much. At last they stopped on something looking like a Western Ranch. Harry nearly expected Ben Cartwright to greet them as they went to the largest building.

Just before they entered Roxanne stopped them. "Mother, we nearly forgot something." She pointed towards Harry's pants and shoes. Agatha's smile and Daphne's grin didn't much to soothe Harry, especially as Roxanne started to cast spells in his direction. Looking down he saw his pants changed into something weird with leather on the inside and the outside a bit stand-away. Instead of simple shoes he now wore knee-high boots crafted from soft leather.

A sound startled him, something he hadn't heard before and he needed some moments to realize that it was the sound of Daphne's laughter. It was the first time she really laughed – not smirked, sneered or something like that but really laughed heartily and quite friendly to add. Harry realized that he liked that sound much more than her usual reactions.

.

Harry was dozing in the Bentley as they reached Pinegrew Manor deep in the night. He still felt his thighs. Despite Roxanne being able to exchange the thoroughbred stallion Daphne had chosen for him into a much calmer mare and going easy on his first riding lesson Harry had been relieved as Lady Agatha had announced that it was time for the picnic. Overlooking the hills and orchards of Surrey they had spent more than an hour at that place, enjoying all the delicacies Ciddy had prepared for them.

Agatha had told of her in-law Aunt Anna, born in Toledo, Spain, and married to her Nephew. From her telling Anna had been a very stubborn woman and unwilling to comply with all those things that were expected from a 'fine young lady'. Instead she brought some traditions to the Pinegrew family that at least the women of the family liked to follow even today. Riding horses was one of those traditions. Harry wasn't sure about his fondness of riding but he had to admit that all three Pinegrew women cut a fine figure on horseback. That he had the back of Daphne up and down the whole time while they rode at a trot clear in sight didn't help to ease the experience or to concentrate on the task at hand.

Later, as promised, they went to the Thames and enjoyed the sight of London at dusk, the sun slowly setting and one by one lights being turned on. He already was more than a bit sleepy – contrary to Lady Agatha who seemed to really relish the day – as they reached the pier again.

Weary he opened his eyes as the Bentley stopped and Daphne – not very gently – shook his shoulder. Yawning he left the car and slowly followed the family. As he entered the house he nearly missed the words of Ciddy as she greeted Roxanne: "You have a guest, milady. He has been waiting for quite a time."

The door to the library was open and Harry paled as he saw Headmaster Dumbledore waiting there, his normally twinkling eyes exchanged for a very angry expression. On a sign of a suddenly very tense Roxanne Lady Agatha ushered Harry and Daphne to the stairs.

How much would he like to hear what they had to say to each other? While he ascended the stairs Roxanne closed the door behind her, shutting him out. It would be another moment, someone was willing to make a decision about him without asking him. Would Dumbledore allow him to stay here? Would he send him back to the Dursleys? With a start Harry realized that he didn't want to go back, that he wanted to stay here … with Roxanne, with Agatha … and with Daphne.


	4. Chapter 4 A friendly conversation

_**A/N**_

_**Justareader21: **_

_As mentioned in the summary I don't intend to build a HP/DG/HG-triangle. While I know some triangle stories (even a very few good ones, the last I saw was about Hermione loving Fred and George) that's not my cup of tea. But as Tolazytosignin so friendly mentioned I'm a bit obsessed with Hermione (she is my favorite char in the HP world) and I consider her the best friend of HP (in contrary to Ron she has never been disloyal in all books). In this story she is designed as a comparison to Daphne in character and (later) her type of relationship. That Daphne has her own faults is meant as a turning away from all those stories that describe her as an even enhanced version of Hermione. Daphne isn't the Real-Miss-Perfect. _

_**So please don't worry: this is not a triangle story. **_

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**A friendly conversation**

_Pinegrew Manor – late evening of July the 31st_

She had expected this 'conversation', even feared it to happen. Perhaps she should have realized that Headmaster Dumbledore would notice his disappearance today. It needed only one too inquisitive friend to learn about Harry's holidays.

Now she had to stay calm, not an easy task as she was still furious about what she had seen in Harry's 'sweet home with lovely Auntie Petunia'. How could anyone allow him to stay there for more than a decade? How had Harry even been able to stay like this, relatively normal, friendly and compassionate? His only deficits, if she wanted to call them that, were his somewhat shyness and insecurity.

And how could she allow all this to happen? She had promised James to watch over his son, to protect him, should neither he nor Sirius be able to do that. She had failed him, failed the love of her youth and stayed silent as Dumbledore planned Harry's future. Roxanne would never forgive herself for caring more for the security of her own daughter than for Harry. In the beginning it had been the right thing – perhaps. With a number of Deatheaters out there, wanting to take revenge for Voldemort's death, it would have been dangerous to have Harry in the house, especially with her husband being a long-term friend of Lucius Malfoy.

But later – she should have overridden Dumbledore's orders and tried to get to know where he lived, how he lived. She had failed him. But this would happen never again. She would fight for him with tooth and nails – against her husband, against his bigoted, racist friends and even against him, Headmaster Dumbledore.

.

Daphne, the ice queen of Slytherin, sensed her countenance crumble. Her grandmother had ushered Harry and her in their respective rooms and walked away, certainly to help her mother in the impendent fight against the Headmaster. She hated Harry's presence, she was sure about that. There were so many reasons to send him away, one of the most important being her sister.

Her relationship with Astoria had never been the best irrespective of both loving each other dearly. But their worldviews were simply too different and caused more than one thunderous word battle, sometimes even ending in duels with spells. With a small smile Daphne remembered the one fight ending with Astoria hurting her with a cutting hex. It had drawn no small amount of blood, causing her little sister to instantly forget about the quarrel and hurry to her side, her face showing that there were more important things than these differences.

The reason back then had been her imminent engagement to Draco Malfoy. Cyrus – Daphne refused to call him father or something like that in her own mind – had realized a few years ago that he had lost Daphne to her mother and started to concentrate his efforts on Astoria. Daphne had tried to protect her but Cyrus had been able to stir Astoria's envy. He spoiled her without end and told her as often as possible what a special girl she would be. In the end Astoria had become a 'father's girl' and one year ago, on her eleventh birthday, she had been engaged to the two years older Draco. It was meant to cement the friendship and alliance between the houses of Malfoy and Greengrass, a house Daphne didn't thought she belonged to. She was a Pinegrew as her mother and grandmother before.

She hated the fact that his presence endangered this engagement. No, she really didn't like Malfoy. While not especially lazy or dumb he trusted too much in his father's abilities to somehow 'make it all happen as he wished'. And mostly he had been right. In the second year he bought Draco's place in the Quidditch team and Lucius' influence even secured Draco his own bodyguards in form of Crabbe and Goyle, the living evidence that something was wrong with that 'pureblood supremacy'. But even so: Astoria loved Draco; loved him since childhood and Astoria's joy has always been very important to Daphne, irrespective of her dumbass beliefs.

.

As silent as possible Daphne left her room and descended the stairs again. She hadn't to turn around to know that Harry was following her. The door to his room had creaked and he was still wearing shoes as he walked on the marble floor. _Very sneaky, Mr. Potter_.

Passing the door to the library Daphne entered the next room, the tea salon, and left the door open for Harry to follow. According to his face he just realized that his appearance wasn't the surprise he had expected it to be. Daphne waited for him to close the door before she opened the service hatch to the adjoining room to stand ajar and the formerly muffled sounds were recognizable now.

Standing side by side both teenagers listened to the ensuing dispute, Harry's face showing his expressions openly – _hello, no Occlumency skills there_ – while Daphne concealed her thoughts behind a bland expression.

.

"He can't stay here," Dumbledore roared. His normally grandfatherly behavior long forgotten he strode back and forth in the library, trying to convince this stupid woman of her stupid course of action. "It is too dangerous. You can't protect him here. And his relatives will be endangered too without the renewal of the blood ward."

Harry's eyes widened and he involuntarily took a deep breath, instantly muffled by a slender and cool hand pressed on his mouth and a death glare of Daph-icy.

"And how would this change with Harry back at that house of horrors?" Harry heard Roxanne's reply. "I've seen that blood ward and even with my knowledge it was detectable that the ward isn't very strong. Perhaps it achieved its purpose in the past but now it wouldn't fool anybody anymore. And the reason is clear to me. A family ward is meant as an extent of the bond between family members, an extension of their love. But there is no love between Harry and his relatives so it weakened with each passing hurtful year."

With barely restrained anger Roxanne crossed the room and gripped the backrest of an armchair, more to occupy her hands and prevent her following the impulse to strangle Dumbledore. Her mother had stayed silent so far, only her eyes showing her warm support in the matter. Dumbledore started to say something but was instantly interrupted, Roxanne now nearly shouting at him.

"Have you ever been there yourself? Have you ever looked, spoken with Harry about how he lived? You promised me," Roxanne bellowed. "You promised me that he would not only be secure but live in a happy home with a loving family. And what a happy home it was. No, they didn't hurt him physically but even you should know about mental hurt, emotional hurt. Living in a cupboard, dressed in hand-down clothes, made to do work when he should be playing, hidden from their neighbors because he 'is a freak'.

"Did you know that these ... these … arg, I don't know an appropriate term for these shits of relatives. Did you know what they told their neighbors about him? That he was an uncorrectable youth criminal and that he spends the greater part of the year in a reformatory."

The face of Roxanne was deep red now, a great contrast to the paleness in Dumbledore's, a paleness shared by Harry and even Daphne. Horrified she realized that she had put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it assuredly. Hastily she drew it back and to her relief he didn't seem to notice, too engrossed in the discussion.

In the next minutes Daphne had problems to follow the discussion in the next room. She was too occupied with her own thoughts. She had known that Harry's presence had been important to her mother, but only now she started slowly to grasp the reasons behind this. Out of the corner of her eyes she watched him. His youth must have been terrible. Even with Cyrus around and the pressure to do many things 'the old bloodlines' way' she had been able to spent most of the time in a way she liked. Yes, many girls, with whom she had to spend time with, thought her style of reading and learning to be weird – to say it politely. But it was how she liked it and her adorable mother had always supported her, not to mention her grandmother.

She couldn't imagine a life without a loving mother or a bugging but likewise loving sister. How would it be to live hidden from everyone, to be told how freakish you were every day?

"You can say what you want." Daphne came back from her deep thoughts as the tone of her mother's voice changed again. She knew this tone. Her mother's voice was like this when she had made up her mind about something and Daphne had never witnessed that someone had been able to change her opinion in that state. "I will ask him and if he wants to stay he'll be here for the rest of the summer. And if he … if he decides to be part of us I'll make the adoption official. It is time that he learns to live his own life, to make his own decisions. I won't allow you to influence him like you did in the past. And you know that the right is on my side."

The quarrel went on for a few minutes more and in the end it was Agatha who ended it. With a more or less polite but a bit frosty voice she stated: "It is late, Headmaster. I think both sides made their point very clear and it is time for you to go. Bon voyage!"

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The teenagers heard how Dumbledore left the house and waited for the sounds of someone ascending the stairs. But to the dismay of Daphne steps neared the tea salon. Before she had the opportunity to search a hiding place the door was opened and Roxanne and Agatha stared at them. While Roxanne seemed to be shocked to see them, Daphne noted that small smile on her grandmother's lips that proved her knowledge about their presence.

"You," Roxanne started with a raspy voice, staring at Harry." You shouldn't be here. You shouldn't have heard this … conversation." After a moment of silence she continued: "Be assured that the Headmaster is a good man and has 'the greater good' at heart. I only disagree with some of his plans and methods."

"Or his way to put the welfare of single persons aside for the greater good, half of the time without asking them," Agatha added with a sourly voice, ignoring the slightly shocked expression of her daughter. Roxanne shared her mother's opinion but she didn't want to estrange Harry and the Headmaster. He still was the boy's most important ally, even if he had to be handled with care.

"But I meant what I said. I don't know how much more danger there will be for you, should you stay with us. But I'll try to protect you as good as possible. And I would like … no, I would love to have you here, living with us. For the summer, if you like. Permanent, if you agree. But it is your decision. I won't pressure you. Okay," she corrected herself with a small smile, "perhaps I'll pressure you a bit. Think about it and tell us tomorrow what you want. Is this okay for you?"

"Naturally he'll stay," Agatha interrupted Roxanne's little speech. "At last I've someone interested in my youth stories and I don't intend to miss this chance."

"Mother," Roxanne started, but her intervention was waved away.

"Don't you 'mother' me, Roxy." The pet name caused Roxanne to blush and Daphne to giggle, at least until her mother death-glared her. "Make him stay; otherwise I'll start searching for a second husband to give me a more obedient daughter."

Harry's eyes wandered from one Pinegrew woman to the next. He wasn't able to assess the danger staying here or how much protection this 'blood ward' mentioned by Headmaster Dumbledore still granted. Apparently it wasn't very strong and while he hadn't been able to follow all arguments Roxanne's opinion sounded right to him. She had fought for him like a lion, like a Gryffindor – not that he would embarrass her with such a statement. She had fought for him like he would have loved to see Aunt Petunia to do at least once in the past.

Then there was Lady Agatha. Certainly she would share her stories about her youth and his grandmother even should he decide to walk away. But he liked her. Stern, strong, compassionate, he could easily imagine her in a role in his life like the one Minerva McGonagall filled for Hermione.

And last but not least there was Daphne. He had noticed her assuring grip only because of her hasty retreat. He had noticed her embarrassment about her reaction. Harry would like to ask her opinion about him staying. But he feared that she would utter something negative, simply on principle. Perhaps he could speak with her later. Now he had only the option to hope that their relation would improve.

Roxanne had asked him two weeks to answer to himself: Do I want to be her friend? The question was still undecided but slowly …

"I don't need another night." Harry saw the struggle in Roxanne's face and sensed Daphne's tension. "I'll stay with you – at least for a while."


	5. Chapter 5 Family Banter

_**A/N**_

_**LuxEterna1/SedureMaikeru:**__ Quidditch-cup and questions about Harry's former adventures. I originally didn't plan to write more than a few sentences about them. But perhaps I can use these themes to intensify the descriptions of the interactions with the Greengrass and Weasley families. A difficult question had been for me: how much does an average student know about those adventures? Or a Slytherin? How much would Dumbledore explain especially about the chamber of secrets? My answer: only the barest, provable and unconcealable facts._

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**Family Banter (Interlude at the request of SedureMikeru)**

_Pinegrew Manor – 14__th__ of August _

Listless he picked at his food. Another two weeks had gone by since his birthday. In the beginning he had hoped that after the quarrel between Roxanne and Dumbledore his relation with Daphne would improve, that after her minute sign of compassion she would open up to him. But quite the reverse was true. The more he tried to be her friend, the more she pulled away, hiding in a shell of glooming.

With her mood darkened, her voice snippier and her patience shorter than before it wasn't surprising that Harry longed for the day he could go to the Weasleys. In two days he would be there. In two days he would see them again: Ron, Ginny, the twins, motherly Molly and Hermione.

Roxanne looked around at the dinner table. It was the first meal they partook together since Astoria returned from her three-week-vacation in Italy with the Malfoys. The girl had gotten a golden-tanned skin and seemed healthier than before, more alive – and more self-confident. This could mean trouble, something they certainly could have done without now.

With an increasing sense of doom she had watched the interaction of Daphne and Harry. While Harry had opened to her, the contrary had been the case in regard of Daphne. It nearly was as if she had formerly hoped Harry's visit would only be a kind of 'phase'; that she had only to wait before he left her life again. Now, with the relation between Roxanne and Harry steadying, growing into something more than cautious friendliness, apparently her daughter had started to battle this, turning from passive ignore to active resistance.

Roxanne pondered about the reasons of her daughter's actions. Sure, there had been events in the past that caused no small amount of antipathy. While Daphne – apart from Tracey Davis and to a lesser degree Blaise Zabini – had no love for most of the Slytherins, she had shared their opinion about the 'golden boy' in the past.

Roxanne remembered quite well their agitation about the Gryffindors winning the house cup in Daphne's first year. They had been furious not only about Dumbledore handing out this large amount of points for preventing the theft of a magical artifact – how precious it may be – but especially about the chosen amount. 165 points Dumbledore had handed out – what an odd number and exactly the amount needed to beat the Slytherins by 5 points. Even Roxanne, normally quite supportive of the Headmaster and an opponent of Lucius' pathetic attempts to get him replaced, regarded that action as an unfair support of the Headmaster's former house. She knew about Snape's partiality with regard to house matters. But obviously he wasn't the only one.

Sometime she wondered whether Flitwick wouldn't be a better Headmaster: Unbiased, less interested in politics and, as someone with goblin-blood in his veins, a positive sign for many, something especially needed in this world with too many 'Umbridges' having influence on the legislation in the recent years.

Yes, Roxanne was able to understand her daughter's suspect towards Harry. In the last three years he apparently obtained some preferential treatment from the school staff and now she feared that it would be the same at Pinegrew Manor. Or perhaps it was simple envy. Until now she had her mother's attention mostly for herself with her sister clinging to her father all the time. She never had to share her mother's time. With Harry slowly stepping into a brother's place it shouldn't have been a surprise that he was handled as such.

But knowing these problems and finding a solution were unfortunately totally different things.

She had tried to integrate both, but every time she had planned another excursion her daughter had become more difficult. Even Roxanne's renowned pout hadn't been able to get Daphne around. Convincing Harry to use the gymnasium with the Pinegrew ladies had been another disaster. Being blissful ignorant to the fact of her daughter slowly growing into a beautiful young woman, Roxanne had struggled with words as she saw Harry ogling Daphne in her gym stuff. Ogling had always been a sore point for Daphne, as her mother knew. The other Slytherins had started to behave like pubescent teenagers around her two years ago and Daphne battled them with a sharp tongue and her ice-queen behavior.

This ice-queen behavior had been Daphne's shell and shield for years, more or less since she went to Hogwarts, to avoid unwelcome attention of her classmates. She only allowed her real inner self, the warm and compassionate side of her that her mother loved immensely, to show at home. That she had started to be icy like this now around her mother and Harry had been quite a shock for Roxanne.

At least Agatha had been a bright spot. More than one afternoon she had spent in Pinegrew Manor, likewise to be a pain in the arse for Cyrus – the mutual aversion increasing from year to year – as to spend time with Harry. Apparently the elder lady had taken a liking to the boy and he seemed to enjoy simply sitting at her side, browsing photos or listening to her youth stories. But Roxanne knew that this sympathy wouldn't be enough to win Harry over. Without at least a hint of friendship between Harry and Daphne it would be only a question of time before he regretted his stay.

.

"Will he be here?" The sudden words of Astoria startled them all. The younger girl made a motion with her chin towards Harry. "Will he be here at Daphne's birthday party?"

Harry blinked silently, feeling himself out of words. Distant but polite had been Astoria's behavior in the beginning. It had been the politeness used towards a salesclerk but politeness nonetheless. But since her return she glared at him and avoided to address him directly.

Waiting awhile utterly unsuccessful for an answer coming from Harry or Daphne, in the end Roxanne responded, her voice scolding: "He has a name, Astoria. And no, Harry will depart in two days. He wants to visit his friends for a week." Roxanne hadn't been happy about this, had hoped for another two weeks to win Harry's trust. But he had been quite eager to see the Weasleys, to watch the Quidditch Cup with them.

And the birthday party of Daphne would be a huge event, kind of summer ball, with many friends of the family attending, mostly Slytherins and many of them more tending to Lucius's side than to Dumbledore's. With Harry leaving before the party it would be less difficult and Roxanne assumed that he wasn't too eager to meet these people. At least he wanted to come back afterwards for a few days to calmly prepare the next school year.

"Good," Astoria mumbled more to herself than anybody else. "It is better this way."

Roxanne saw the ire rising in Harry. There hadn't been many opportunities to experience his anger in the month of his stay but it had become apparent to her that the boy had a little 'temper problem'.

"What do you mean," he snarled at Astoria, not only attacking her but in the same moment putting Daphne in her sister-protection-mode. That squaring of her shoulders, that lifting of her head – Roxanne knew the signs all too well. Irrespective how different both girls were, irrespective of their continuing quarrels – both sisters had always been fiercely protective of each other.

"Draco will be here." The mention of Draco's name only deepened the frown on Harry's brow. "And I would hate to see Daphne's party disturbed because …" She hesitated and waved indeterminately.

"Because of what," Harry snarled?

"Because Draco and you aren't exactly friends," Daphne offered, her face showing clearly how agitated she was.

"It's not my fault," Harry growled back and glared at both girls. "Draco is a git."

"Pshaw!" Astoria put her silverware down and shot an icy glare towards Harry. "Whose fault should it be else? You've always tried to belittle him and that after he even tried to befriend you in the beginning. Always provoking, always hiding behind the Headmaster – it hasn't simply been fair. No wonder that in between he doesn't like you anymore."

Harry stared at the girl, aghast that she could be so dense to believe this bull. Yes, it was quite believable that Malfoy vomited such nonsense around his friends, but even Draco couldn't really believe this whisked grunge.

Astoria on the other hand gathered pace and closed in for the kill. "Then there was this incident with that bloodthirsty beast. Poor Draco nearly lost his arm and you and your disgusting red-headed friend tried to rescue him from his deserved fate."

Harry wasn't able to stay on his place any longer and shouted back, his face red with anger: "Malfoy, that blasted git, never tried to be anything than despising towards my friends and me. He called Hermione Mu… that ugly word more than once only to hurt her. And it was his own fault that Buckbeak hit him. He was damned lucky only to receive that little scratch. Running around with his arm in a sling was only a pity ploy."

"It was not," Astoria threw her napkin in his direction, the piece of cloth falling down on his plate. "And we're certain that nobody else than you has been the one to free him. "

Seeing Harry hesitate at this accusation Astoria smirked broadly in his direction. Roxanne was a bit confused because of the direction this hassle went. She remembered the stories of the third year about Professor Lupin being sacked because of his Werewolf nature. And then there had been the case of Sirius Black. Roxanne was certain that she only knew half of it and exactly this had been the cause to forbid any discussions about the matter. "No half-truths," she had explained to her daughters.

But this Buckbeak – Cyrus had spoken about it once and she had heard some rumors about Lucius pressing the case, trying to get the beast executed. But she had never had any interest in the case and this part of Harry rescuing the beast was totally new and unexpected.

But her daughter wasn't finished. Getting the upper hand she continued: "And then this thing with the chamber of secrets." She smirked as if daring Harry to interrupt her. Seeing nothing about the chamber what he could have done wrong Harry stayed silent, a confused expression on his face.

"I don't know if it was you or that Weaslette who opened the chamber, freed that beast which nearly killed several students and nearly led to the closure of Hogwarts," she crossed her arms in front of her chest and spitted in Harry's direction "but certainly it had been the ultimate proof of your insolence to blame Draco and his father for this deed." Looking at her parents for support she ended her little prosecution speech: "It is only thanks to Headmaster Dumbledore that you're still allowed to stay at the school. Not that anyone would expect him to …"

"Stop it right now." Abashed Astoria stared at her fuming mother. "I don't allow you to belittle a respected wizard like Headmaster Dumbledore in this house." The snort of Cyrus was hastily suppressed as Roxanne death-glared him. Massaging her aching temples with her finger tips Roxanne tried to gather her thoughts.

The story about the chamber of secrets had been a curious one, told only in parts and with many details missing. The official story had been that the Basilisk had been hiding under the school for a very long time, now breaking free of his bindings and attacking students randomly. That all off the attacked had been half-bloods or Muggleborns was an ill-kept secret. Officially nobody had been responsible and even unofficially it had been impossible to learn the truth. The closest to the truth – at least in her believe – had been that the 'Weaslette' had somehow opened the chamber, influenced by someone. This would at least be much more believable than an eleven-year-old girl doing this on her own accord and abilities.

According to the Daily Prophet it had been Professor Gilderoy Lockhart – with a little help of Harry Potter and his friends – who battled the Basilisk and killed him, only to be wounded so seriously in the fight that he was still recovering – with the best wishes of his immense fan following.

Roxanne had her doubts about Professor Lockhart's heroic action. She had met him several times and reckoned him to be a pompous cock and mendacious wimp and washout. She had been very surprised that someone as Headmaster Dumbledore even agreed to confide the position of the DADA teacher to him. But the fact was that Lockhart was still a permanent resident of St. Mungo. Nowhere in that story occurred any hint of Draco or Lucius Malfoy being part of it.

Sitting down again and waving the teenagers to follow her example Roxanne asked, her voice as calm as possible: "Harry, what's that about the Malfoys being part of those events? I never heard such a rumor before."

Harry was still quite agitated but seeing Roxanne more relaxed and apparently interested the truth he tried to calm himself: "There had been this rumor about 'the heir of Slytherin' opening the chamber. For a while the two most often assumed had been Draco and me. I because I'm a Parseltongue" Roxanne blinked shortly at this announcement but stayed silent. "And Draco because he's Draco, self-announced prince of Slytherin and all."

Astoria started to interrupt but was stopped by a commanding wave of her mother's hand.

"But then we found the Basilisk. Ginny Weasley had been there, abducted. She had been under the influence of a dark book, forced to open the chamber against her will."

A sneer of Astoria, a glare of Roxanne and a thoughtful look of Daphne were all direct reactions to this announcement.

"That book … it formerly belonged to Lucius Malfoy. He smuggled it into Ginny's cauldron just at the beginning of the school year."

"What nonsense. A book influencing a girl – never heard such a bull. And why should he do it? What reason should Mister Malfoy have to do such a thing?" Astoria tried to ignore her mother's glare but apparently felt quite uncomfortable.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "We're not sure about the book's origin. Or why he had done it. Perhaps simply to cause havoc and kill Muggleborn."

Harry looked around, his face telling Roxanne that he didn't expect anyone believing him. And wasn't his story a bit … far-fetched? Certainly he hadn't told everything. And with 'we' he doubtless didn't mean only his friends and him but the Headmaster too. On the other hand the official story had so many gaps – with this part about Lucius the explanation became more believable.

Roxanne watched Harry sinking into his chair under the onslaught of harassing uttered by Cyrus and Astoria and just opened her mouth to support him as the sudden voice of Daphne startled all around: "I believe him."

Wide-eyed Astoria and Cyrus stared at her, but nobody was more surprised than Harry. Calmly Daphne continued, looking at Harry with a very small smile on her lips:

"He didn't tell us all. And he doesn't know it all, I'm sure. But what he said he at least fully believed. Harry isn't able to lie. It's simply not in his blood to lie without showing it way too openly. Until someone has convincing proof I'll believe his story: That Ginny Weasley opened the chamber under the influence of a book given to her by Lucius Malfoy. And about the reason: Please don't act so surprised to hear that he could be able to kill Muggleborn or would like to start problems at Hogwarts."

Roxanne patted her daughter's hand and smiled assuredly in her direction, but Daphne withdrew her hand. Shortly she glanced at her mother before turning towards harry again: "I share the opinion that you should leave the school. You're somehow a magnet of trouble, Harry. But responsible for the chamber was someone else. If you excuse me now, please." Silently she stood up and under the thoughtful eyes of Harry and Roxanne Daphne left the room.


	6. Chapter 6 Red-headed Delight

_**A/N**_

_**Style/Speech/Length**__: Because several readers commented these points (and my wife just agreed with these comments) I think I'll give it a try to write longer chapters with more direct speech/showing and reserve the 'telling' to things I think to be less important for the story (especially many events every reader should know about the original story)._

_**Harry's character**__: In many stories I saw a very self-confident Harry, in my eyes too self-confident. In my story I imagine Harry as a boy who just lost his great chance to have a happy life (with Sirius on the run again) and who tries everything to behave like he assumes his host expects from him. I would like to hear your opinions about this point (and the critic expressed by several readers that this Harry is too wimpy)._

.

**Red-headed Delight**

_The Burrow – 16__th__ of August_

"He looks happy, don't you think so?"

Startled through Ginny's soft voice Hermione looked up from her book and focused her eyes on the thoughtful face of the young girl. Despite their differences they had been able to form a close friendship in the last year. Especially the events around the chamber of secrets had brought them together. Hermione followed Ginny's stare to the field in front of the Burrow where the Weasley boys were fooling around with Harry. After his arrival thirty minutes ago she hadn't been able to do more than a short greeting and an even shorter hug before the twins more or less dragged him into the open. She had enjoyed the hug, her being the only one he seemed to allow such a gesture willingly. But she had sensed the tenseness of his body and anxiously awaited an opportunity to speak with him about the last weeks.

"Yes, he seems so," Hermione responded equally softly. "I assumed you would be with the boys. You know – flying around and all."

Ginny reciprocated her smile with a pained expression. "Later," she sighed.

Hermione frowned. She had expected Ginny to be really happy to have Harry in the house. That she had a crush on the boy since their first meeting – even since before Ginny went to Hogwarts – had been no secret. A few months ago the red-headed girl even started a conversation about Hermione and her relation to Harry. She had been obviously relieved to hear …

"_He is very important to me, Ginny. I care for him, his welfare and his happiness. He deserves so much more than he experienced in the past. In a way I even love him. But it is a love towards a brother I never had. I more than once dreamed about asking my parents to adopt him so that we could live together in the summer and winter break. But I won't stand between him and the girl he loves."_

Now he had arrived at the Burrow but after the first very happy moments Ginny started to be depressed and Hermione had no idea about the reasons of this change of mood.

"What troubles you?" The quiet question caused Ginny to turn around and blush a bit. Her face showed that she was struggling with herself about answering truthfully or not. "You know that I'll keep your secret? But I can see that something is amiss. I really expected you would be happier about Harry's arrival. You've been waiting for weeks."

Ginny's throat escaped a shuddering sigh and she even seemed to fight with tears. "He's only here because of Ron." Hermione started to object but Ginny resolutely shook her head. "You know it. Without Ron and you he wouldn't visit us. Harry doesn't really see me. I'm only the little sister, not even a real girl. He even forgot my birthday."

This Hermione had noticed a while ago and had hoped to remind Harry about in time. Obviously it was too late and the harm done. What could she say? In a way Ginny's assumption was correct: Harry certainly until now had failed to see more in Ginny than Ron's little sister and if he really noticed her adoration it seemed to be more a nuisance to him.

While Ginny again stared through the window, Hermione used the moment to intensely eye her. Ginny had turned thirteen five days ago and while it was visible that one day she would be a real beauty – certainly not sharing the appearance with her more matron-like build mother – in the moment she still was very girly. Her curves a bit boyish, her legs long and slender, her breast only just beginning to grow. In two years at most Ginny would be a real heartbreaker around the guys but Hermione knew that "you only have to wait" is a weak encouragement if half of the girls in Hogwarts were eyeing Harry.

Until now it had been mostly the fame of 'the-boy-who-lived' that caught their attention but now, with Harry growing into a real teenager, with his slightly tanned skin and more time spend on sports, it was only a question of time before the older girls noticed the bodily change. An even greater problem would certainly be Harry's interest in Cho Chang. Since that Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw he had ogled the dark-haired beauty more than once in the Great Hall, much to Ginny's chagrin.

"Boys," Hermione tried to hold her voice happy but failed miserably. "You can't live with them, you can't live without them."

Despite her unhappy happiness Ginny tried to fight her mood and even smiled a tiny smile. "Yes, boys," she whispered. Thoughtful she looked at Hermione. "You have the same problem, don't you? I mean with Ron." Hermione's ears turned pink but Ginny didn't stop. "I know you fancy him."

Now it was Hermione's turn to sigh. "He only thinks of me as a kind of running lexicon, happy to help him with the homework. If he's speaking about girls he's never thinking about me but only girls like Lavender."

"He's a prat," Ginny responded absolutely convinced and her immediate reaction brought a smile on Hermione's face again. Ginny swayed slightly back and forth, deep in thoughts, pondering about something, causing an uneasy feeling in Hermione's stomach. The sight of a Weasley – irrespective of which one – so deeply in thoughts meant trouble most of the time.

"I have an idea," Ginny announced at last. Hermione nearly groaned but tried to look fascinated. "I help you with Ron and you help me with Harry."

Hermione tried to grasp the idea but her mind always wandered to the question of morality and friendship. The relation between Ron and Ginny had never been as deep as between both and their elder siblings. Hermione on the other hand had meant it quite earnestly as she spoke about Harry's welfare. To manipulate him into a relation with Ginny seemed inconsiderate. Yes, Ginny was a very intelligent and beautiful girl, but somehow Hermione wasn't able to imagine Ginny and Harry together in ten years, with a small house and a toddler running around.

But helpless she had to watch as Ginny warmed up to the idea. "Ron doesn't allow me to be with you three. And sometimes I fear that I'm a bit too clingy for Harry's taste." Hermione couldn't help but nod slowly. She was a bit surprised to hear that Ginny noticed this but she certainly was correct about both points. "But if you invite me, they can't say no. I would be there as your friend and spend time with Harry quite naturally."

This didn't sound too awful. Ginny and she were friends and she liked to spend time with her. To increase that amount didn't seem too painful. At least Ginny didn't expect her to influence Harry. "And perhaps you could remark something positive about me towards Harry from time to time." And there flew the innocence out of the window. "Or leave with Ron to visit … something. You with him and I with Harry – later I mean. I don't want to press the matter."

_Certainly not_, Hermione groaned inwardly. But what could she say? Ginny liked Harry; perhaps she was even in love with him. She deserved at least a chance and if she misused the opportunity Hermione could still intervene. And perhaps that would really help her with her own cause with Ron. "Alright, it is a deal," Hermione offered her hand to a happy smiling Ginny. Why had she still this uneasy feeling in her stomach?

.

The knot in her stomach unraveled Ginny skipped out of the house and down the open field. Charlie, the twins, Ron and Harry were talking, brooms in their hands. It could have been expected that even with the twins telling Harry about their newest prank ideas the boys would start sooner or later a little game. Would she be allowed … Charlie detected her and waved her to catch up with them. Ginny grinned broadly. Charlie had always been her favorite brother. Would she be in Harry's team? She hoped not. Being in the opposite team would allow her more opportunities to be near him and even touch him from time to time.

As the girl reached her brothers her eyes examined their faces. How much of this joy was honest? How much of it resulted from Molly's orders the day before? Her mother had been quite adamant about all Weasleys trying to give Harry a happy time at the Burrow. Ginny had been a bit surprised about this and apparently her brothers too. They would have behaved well without her orders and Harry relished the summer weeks with them every time. There was no need for encouragement. So what had been the reason? Perhaps the conversation between her parents the evening before? The conversation they had after her mother's return from a Hogwarts visit.

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_One day before_

"We have to assure that Harry stays with us."

As Ginny reached the chamber of her parents to ask about the plans for the next day she heard her mother's voice and halted her steps. Looking around she wasn't able to detect any of her brothers. For a moment she hesitated. Her mother disliked eavesdropping but this was about Harry. As silent as possible she stepped nearer and pressed her ear against the door.

"But why," she heard her father's voice, a bit whiny in the moment? "It is his decision. If he wants to …"

"Nonsense," Molly was completely steady in her opinion. "He is fourteen years old; he can't know what's good for him. We have to help him to make the right choice." Ginny suppressed a groan. How often had she been on the receiving end of that sentence? Molly certainly held to the opinion that none of her children – not even Charlie and Bill – were old enough to make their own decisions. Hastily she gripped her mouth to stop the laughter as the thought crossed her mind if Molly supposed Arthur to be old enough.

Arthur sighed. "I don't know, Molly. James obviously trusted her enough to make her Harry's godmother."

"Pshaw!" Molly wasn't convinced. "He only made her godmother because of those former contracts. And trust – he trusted Sirius too and we all know what kind of decision that has been."

_Sirius_, Ginny wondered? She had heard from her brother that the rumors about Sirius were false, that he wasn't the murderer all assumed and that Harry liked him. What could be wrong about him?

"Now this is a bit unfair," Arthur grumbled. "Sirius had been James' best friend. It always seemed a bit weird to assume he could be able to betray him. And now we know the truth. And we know that James' trust was justified."

"Innocent or not – Sirius is nothing else than a big boy. He's no more qualified as a father figure than Ron. But while Ron may grow up in the future, Sirius obviously missed the moment. He'll be a rash, prankish boy for the rest of his life. Certainly not a man I would trust with the welfare of a teenager. Until he's proven innocent it is impossible anyway."

Arthur agreed with that at least. "But sooner or later it will be possible. Dumbledore will prove his innocence and then …"

"Then we will care about that. Until that day we have to make sure that Harry's in the right hands and that's certainly not the house of a Deatheater."

"You know that she isn't, Molly," Arthur objected. "Mrs. Greengrass had never been a Deatheater and her parents too."

"I didn't mean her but her husband. You know quite well that he's an ally of that unholy Malfoy. There had been rumors ten years ago about Mr. Greengrass supporting 'his' cause with money. Nobody who's a friend of a man who did such terrible things to our sweet daughter should be allowed near Harry."

Arthur signed again, sounding resigned: "And Dumbledore thinks this is for the best? We can't simply explain the matter to Harry?"

"No, that wouldn't do," Molly contradicted. "Simple reasons wouldn't convince him. He's too influenced by this 'everyone deserves a chance'. Naturally that's not bad in itself but it makes the matter more complicated. Let's do what Dumbledore said. We make sure that he likes his stay and I'll speak with Ron, Ginny and the twins regarding the next school year. You'll see: in no time he'll forget about this stupid adoption."

With Molly's steps nearing the door Ginny didn't wait for her father's response and hurried away. Nor did she see the shadow that left the window place around the corner and hurried to the upper floors.

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_Presence_

A snap in front of her face brought Ginny back to reality. Charlie's face was hovering in front of her, a broad smile plastered on his face: "Back with us, Ginny-kin?"

Ginny smiled back before she grimaced: "I had such a nice daydream – about nice brothers, athletic, handsome. And now I'm back and find – you."

"We are," Georg started.

"Very handsome," Fred completed.

Ron was only able to growl a bit while Charlie started some muscle flexing poses to impress his little sister.

"Alright, alright," she loved heartily. "I'm impressed. Now please stop this, Charlie, or we have to shoo away all the birds around." Charlie sniffed a bit, falsely downtrodden until Ginny punched his arm: "So, you handsome and athletic Weasley-boys. What shall we do now? A little Quidditch to show our guest that we're still the best team out there and not those poor fakes we'll see tomorrow?"

Charlie hugged her, the twins seemed to be calmed down again and even Ron grinned, thinking about the Quidditch finals they would visit the next day. Somehow their father had been able to organize extremely good tickets and every Weasley was eager to go there. A few minutes later two teams had been build, one consisting of Harry, George and Ron, the other containing Charlie, Fred and Ginny. They would play without a seeker, with a combined keeper/beater and two chasers. The teams were surprisingly unevenly matched instead of the best laid plans. While both Fred and George weren't very impressive keepers and used most of the time to send bludgers towards everyone irrespective of teams, it was Ron who convinced everyone that he should really stay with the keeper position and never again try his hands as a chaser.

Harry tried every trick in his repertoire but to no avail: the combinations he planned with Ron always failed, every single one of them, the mood of Harry darkening with every error of the slowly very irritated Ron. It didn't help that Ginny showed quite a talent as a chaser and the teamwork of her and her brother belonged to the best Harry ever saw aside from the current Gryffindor trio.

"Harry, your goal is over there," Ginny screamed in the golden boy's direction as another pass to Ron failed its target. Harry loud grumbling only broadened Ginny's smirk and even the death-glare of Ron couldn't stop her good mood.

"Ron, perhaps Harry should play solo-chaser and make the goals alone. And you could – I don't know – perhaps sing a victory song for Charlie and me."

Ron's face now assumed the red color of his hair. He rushed near his sister and tried to throw a Quaffle at her head – unsurprisingly missing again as Ginny avoided the attack easily. "Are you mad," Ginny's gesture telling what she thought about her brother's ire. Before another fight could erupt Charlie ordered an end to the game. "I think it is time to prepare for dinner. And we have to end early today. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"You've been playing well," Harry congratulated Ginny as they stored away the brooms. She flashed a smile: "Do you think so? You weren't bad yourself out there. You'd only to struggle a bit with your team."

Harry shook his head and whispered: "Be nice to him. I don't think that Ron's very proud about his play. And you know how easily he gets depressed."

Ginny sighed and nodded: "Alright, alright. I'll be nice to him. But only because he's my brother – and you bade me." With a last sweet smile towards a confused Harry Ginny hurried away.

.

The sun neared the horizon and the sky was blood-red. With a "humpf" Harry slumped on a seat near Hermione on the porch.

"I'm stodged," he whined. "It was way too much to eat."

"You could have stopped after the third course," Hermione responded without looking up from her book and without the slightest hint of compassion.

Harry growled slightly: "And I thought you'd be my friend. Beasty girl, you."

For a moment Hermione accomplished to hold on to her bland face but then a laugh forced its way. "You should really have expected that Molly would try to fatten you. You're always so scrawny after …" She hesitated as her mind fetched up with the thought that he hadn't spent the last weeks with the Dursleys. After a minute of uneasy silence she started anew: "And how have you been so far?"

Harry looked down to avoid her eyes, carving senseless signs into the sand with a stick in his hands. "Good, the weeks had been good. I even did most of my homework." Looking up he caught Hermione heavily blinking about this statement. "Really," she whispered with a rough voice? "Really," Hermione tried a second time, clearer now after clearing her throat.

"Yes, really," Harry grinned, happy but not surprised about her reaction. "I'll show you later but I think it is okay so far what I wrote." Closing his eyes and turning his face towards the sun he continued more balanced: "The weeks had been …" He struggled for some moments: "No, not nice, but different to the summers before."

"Different as in 'positive different' or more like 'ugly different'," Hermione asked? She wasn't sure about her emotions towards this evolvement. Until now she didn't know much about the last month, only that Harry had spent the weeks in Greengrass Manor and that Molly's sentiment about those people wasn't very positive. From her remarks they seemed to be something like the Malfoys and certainly Harry wouldn't enjoy spending times with the Malfoys?

"The house is very nice – a central building with three wings around. An own gym and swimming hall belong to the manor. They have house-elves." As he saw Hermione's frown he hastily added: "But they treat them friendly and they have clothes on, something like servant uniforms." Hearing this Hermione relaxed again.

"Oh, I have a tomcat now." Hermione stared at him with wide eyes. "I've got him from Mrs. Figg. By the way: Did you know that Mrs. Figg is a Squib? She lives there to have a watch, on order of Headmaster Dumbledore." She was stunned by that news. Mrs. Figg was a Squib? And watching Harry by order of Dumbledore? "She … she was sad about not realizing what was happening in the Dursley house. As a kind of apology she gave me the tomcat. His name is Balou and he is far smaller than Crookshanks and his fur is black-white and very soft."

Hermione smiled softly. Seeing him with this happiness in his eyes, hearing his voice with such care speaking about his tomcat – she knew how loving he already was towards Hedwig, but this …

"What about Hedwig? I mean … you can't have two pets at Hogwarts."

"I know," Harry answered crestfallen. "I'll take Hedwig with me. I thought about asking Ginny. Perhaps she can care for him. What do you mean?"

_Ginny would love to help him this way and to have an excuse to see him daily_. "You should ask her. I'm sure she'll agree." But her mind already went back to the past weeks. "And what about that family, how have they been?"

Harry didn't respond instantly. Instead he played again with the stick in the sand before he said with an unsteady voice.

"Lord Greengrass is quite an ass. He's a friend of Malfoy and he acts like a bad copy of 'dear Lucius'. Then there is Astoria. I don't know if you ever saw her. She is two years younger than us but already engaged to Draco. Poor blood forever – I mean 'pure blood', you get the impression." Hermione felt a bit depressed now. This sounded bad, quite as bad as told by Molly.

"But then there's Lady Agatha. She is the family's matron and you certainly would like her – a bit like Professor McGonagall but more easygoing. She went to school with my grandma and told me stories about their youth. They had been Ravenclaws. Oh, she gave me a picture book." _You don't have much choice with blood relatives. But how could a woman like this Lady Agatha chose a husband for her daughter like this prat?_ Hermione decided to speak about this point later.

"Roxanne is … I mean Lady Greengrass, she is a kind woman, very intelligent." Hermione frowned. If Harry was on first-name with her then this relation was perhaps more important than imagined. "We have been in Muggle London, visiting the tower. She showed us the Downing Street, you know, that's where …"

"The Prime Minister lives," Hermione complemented. _Play-acting or real interest_ – that was the question, Hermione pondered. Certainly Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be able to show someone the Downing Street if his life depended on it. "Us," she asked after a moment. "You said 'she showed us …"

"Oh, yes," was there a tiny blush on his cheeks? "Daphne had been with us most of the time. You would like her. She's intelligent, likes to read and learn. She even forced me to do my homework." Hermione looked down as a smile crawled on her face. That was certainly a point in her book. "But she doesn't like me," Harry added and Hermione's smile turned into a deep frown. "I don't know why, she doesn't really know me, but … I think she hates me."

Hermione watched him in silence. With a few sentences it would be possible to sway him away from that family. The Weasleys would certainly be happy about such a move. But this was Harry, her friend, her kind-of-brother. He deserved honesty and help.

"And is it important for you? Her opinion about you I mean," she asked with a soft voice.

Harry breathed deeply thru his nose several times to steady his nerves. "I don't know. Sometimes she is so infuriating. She said that I don't belong to Hogwarts, that I'm starting trouble." He pondered for a moment before he shook his head. "No, she said: I attract trouble, not that I start it. And she glares at me all the time. And when we're together she never speaks with me about personal things, only school things or history or other neutral themes."

Several times Hermione sensed the urge to comment, but every time she pulled back. Somehow she sensed that Harry needed this moment to think about Daphne, that he told these things not only her but also himself.

"But then … as I told them about the chamber of secrets and how Lucius Malfoy had been part of it" Hermione inhaled deeply, but nodded in Harry's direction to continue "she had been the first to say 'I believe you'. Okay, she added that slight remark about me simply not able to hide lies, but in a way that was nice, wasn't it?"

Hermione nodded weakly, a deep frown visible. At last she shrugged, coming to a decision about the matter: "I can't say anything about them in the moment. I would really like to meet them, especially Lady Roxanne and Daphne. You know – to get a first handed impression."

Harry nodded agreement. "I think that should be possible. They'll be at the Quidditch finals. And perhaps – I could ask her about you visiting us."

"You want to go back before school starts," Hermione asked in wonder? _Molly had made it quite clear that she assumed Harry would be in the Burrow until September_.

"I'm not sure. As we planned my visit to the Burrow Roxanne and I agreed on me returning after a week. But I had a row with the Greengrass girls two days ago and now …"

Hermione patted his arm gently. "We'll see. Let's wait how the finals go and perhaps I can take a look at them. You have a few more days to decide. And perhaps you're already tired of Ron and me after a few days."

Hermione was quite shocked as Harry hugged her as those shows of affection were normally started by her: "Never."

.

_**A/N**_

_The next 3-5 chapters should be about Quidditch and the start of the school. After that I'll make greater leaps. I think there have been more than enough descriptions about the choosing of the Champions and the first test and my descriptions about that part can be a bit shorter._


	7. Chapter 7 Quidditch Finals

**Quidditch Finals**

_Quidditch Fields – 17__th__ of August_

"Perhaps I should become a professional Quidditch player myself – at least for a few years. You know, dear Astoria, fame is fleeting and the career of a Quidditch star is a short one. Later I naturally would work with my father and prepare myself for the only position that's possible for someone like me: A gentleman and politician."

Draco was walking with Astoria and Daphne a few steps ahead of their parents, behaving like he would own the whole place. While the younger girl hang on his every word, her older sister had a wicked grin plastered on her face and was only waiting for a fit occasion to spoil his moment.

"Aren't gentleman and politician quite a diametric contrast, dear Draco?" The word 'dear' she uttered with a sugary sweet voice that was in sharp contrast to her expression.

"Behave," Astoria glared at her before she turned back towards her boyfriend, conspicuous adoration on her face. "I'm dead certain that you would be …"

"A laughing stock," Daphne tried to be helpful, her face now only showing her desire to assist.

"Daphne Aurelia Greengrass," her mother's voice told her that she wasn't in overmuch trouble and thus the censuring "behave" prompted her only to bow her head lightly in agreement, not to apologize in any way towards the git she despised.

Roxanne Greengrass, following the teenagers with a very silent Narcissa Malfoy at her side, had to suppress a smile. She had at least to try enforcing a ladylike behavior from her daughter and while little badinages and small insults weren't unusual between members of pureblood families, you had to limit them to the private area. In the open, with hundreds of other wizards and witches around, a unified front was more appropriate. Luckily Cyrus and Lucius kept their distance so far and were out of hearing range. Otherwise Cyrus would certainly scold his daughter – simply to impress his 'friend' Lucius with his firm hand. Such a scolding would only have caused an impolite reaction from Daphne and within minutes they would have a full-blown debate at hand with insults flying around like candies on carnival. And Narcissa seemed quite content to see her son put down a step.

After the engagement of their kids the two women had renewed their loose school time friendship. Both intelligent, talented and well-educated, both in an unwelcome marriage and living a life they wouldn't have chosen, both trying to find a compromise for their children between a future they deserved and the wishes of their fathers.

On most days Roxanne enjoyed the sharp tongue of her daughter. Somehow she saw this trait as a proof of Daphne being a real Pinegrew unlike her younger sister who had been way too much of a Malfoy fan girl – to both father and son –in the past for her mother's taste. But today it was Quidditch time and as with every Pinegrew woman this was serious business for her. Her mother had been a splendid chaser, she had been a – to her regret not very talented but at least excited – keeper and her daughter could have been a fabulous beater with her keen eye and that killer instinct she showed on the field. But unfortunately Marcus Flint, the current Slytherin team captain, had shown no interest in using the talents of the Slytherin girls and only invited boys to the team, several of them not very talented aside from their fondness of cheating.

The fantasy to build an all-girl-team had been one of the few themes Daphne, Tracey, Pansy and Millicent had been able to be on agreeable terms instead of their normal bitchy behavior among themselves. Roxanne noticed the change in her daughter's posture and for a few moments struggled about intervening or allowing her to say what certainly was on Daphne's lips now. She knew her daughter well enough to predict the direction of her thoughts after some more minutes of Draco blubbering about his prowess as a Seeker. With a very small sigh, which not surprisingly raised a smirk on Narcissa's face, Roxanne decided to lean back – at least for the moment.

"You do know, Draco-honey: professional teams don't allow someone to buy a position like our house team. You have to earn it and show at least a modicum of talent."

Roxanne hastily looked down and bit on her lower lip to suppress a giggle. On Daphne's last birthday there had been a match between the boys and girls. Tracey, Millicent and the Ravenclaw Lisa Turpin had been a stunning Chaser trio despite the dirty tricks of the older Slytherin boys. And while Daphne showed an utter glee about her harassment of Draco with deathly accurate bludgers, Pansy perfected the all-girl-win with an acrobatic fetch of the snitch. Naturally the boys wriggled themselves out of the situation with excuses about 'gentleman-behavior' and 'letting-the-girls-win'. But nobody believed them. That Marcus Flint afterwards still adhered to his no-girl-team-policy came as no surprise.

"You have no idea," Draco growled, ignoring Astoria who tried to soothe him by rubbing his arm. "The world isn't that easy and wonderful. You have to understand the reality and adapt."

"Or you could try to change it."

"Girlish nonsense as could be expected from you," Draco snarled in her direction. This prompted one of the few frowns from Astoria the girl only showed if someone dared to insult her sister. Daphne was weird in her eyes, but she was still her beloved older sister. Even for Draco there were limits to his allowed behavior. And he was just scratching those limits.

Instead of the furious reproach her mother anticipated Daphne relaxed and smiled. But it was this type of smile that preceded another one of her biting remarks: "If your father has enough money for a few more brooms you could certainly be accepted by the Chudley Canons. They at least would be in your talent league and you could secure their current ranking for years to come."

With a crimson face Draco turned his back to Daphne and ignored her furthermore. Roxanne tried hard to glower at her victorious looking Daphne but failed miserably. That Daphne despised the Chudley Canons was no secret to her, even if the reasons were unclear. Yes, it was a clear lack of taste to choose orange as the color of choice but that wasn't a reason to hate the team. And that they hadn't been able to do better – being on the last position in the league for years – was more a reason for pity.

.

"Wait," Narcissa whispered as she stopped Roxanne from following their husbands onto the tribune. Lucius Malfoy, being an ardent and first and foremost paying supporter of Minister Fudge had been invited to the Minister's loge. He in turn offered the Greengrass, as the family of his son's fiancée, to watch the game from this exalted place. Roxanne would have liked to avoid the all-too-blond man but had accepted in the end. At least Narcissa would be there and while Mrs. Malfoy – in Roxanne's opinion – was too lenient towards her husband, Roxanne still liked her dry sense of humor.

Cyrus stepped at Lucius' side and relished the moment of attention from Minister Fudge and his Bulgarian colleague. The men had hardly time to introduce their children before they started a new round of speaking about 'very important and manly businesses'.

"Lucius told me to leave after the game," Narcissa started, a concerned expression visible on her beautiful face. "He organized a portkey so we can leave at 1800."

Roxanne got very serious now too, the relaxed humor whisked away she had sensed for the last hour. Nodding she agreed: "It had been the same with Cyrus. Yesterday, after his return from Malfoy Manor, he gave me this ticket and the strict command not to miss the port."

Both women stared at their husband in shared suspicion. "They're up to something," Narcissa commented. "Certainly they're following some dumb plan from your husband. No offense, Cissy," Roxanne added with a not very honest apology. "None taken," Narcissa responded, her eyes not leaving Lucius. "Nott, Crabbe and Goyle have been with them, too." Crabbe and Goyle senior, while not as stupid as their sons, had never been the brightest purebloods around and always been single-minded in their servitude to Malfoy.

Roxanne sighed: "I hate to do that but we should follow their wishes – this time. I only hope they're not planning something all too rash or dangerous."

"Perhaps we should hope so," Narcissa tried not very hard to sound humorous. "This way we could be widows tomorrow and start to raise our kids properly."

Roxanne gasped and struggled for words. Thinking about it she knew that in a way Narcissa was right. While she had been able – in agreement with her husband – to raise Daphne mostly as she wanted and was quite content with the result, the same could not be said about Astoria. And Draco certainly could use a firm hand too; otherwise he would end a cruel and spoiled brat – crueler and more spoiled than now. But to hope for her husband's death …

"What," Narcissa asked with a soft smile? "Have you never pondered about poisoning your fabulous husband's brandy? Or wished to excavate your deceased father and strangle him for arranging your marriage to this poor excuse of a man? No offense, Roxy."

"None taken," Roxanne answered with an exhausted sigh. "And to answer your question: Yes, I did. I'm often angry with my father and would love to hand out a scolding or two. But I don't hate him – anymore. He did it with good reason. With 'him' on the rise my father only wanted to protect his family and – rightfully – thought that Cyrus would be able to offer that protection without being too much of a burden to me." Narcissa's look softened and she nodded understandingly as Roxanne continued: "And it wasn't only his fault. I could have said no. I hadn't even the excuse of my parents threatening me with disinheritance. My mother would have never allowed that. But I was eighteen and frightened and after the double murder of the Prewett twins his arguments seemed so reasonable, the dangers of not taking sides to great and 'his' power overwhelming."

"Yes," Narcissa agreed. "Who would have expected to see a baby kill him two years later?"

Cyrus Greengrass, glancing towards his wife whom he missed at his side and wanted to impress with his good connections, paled as he noticed that sweet and dangerous smile on Roxanne's face. He had learned quite early that – while she allowed him to play the head of the house in the pureblood society – it was in his best interest not to push her too hard and allow her some freedom. And just now she looked quite agitated and dangerous to him.

"But sometimes …" Roxanne started after a few minutes of silence.

"How life would be without our precious lords and masters," Narcissa continued with an equally wicked smile. Lucius, following Cyrus eyes to their wives, was a better actor and able to hide his reaction. He shortly nodded towards Narcissa before he turned back to Minister Fudge, showing every one that he was in charge of his family.

"Sometimes a girl is allowed to dream."

.

Just as Roxanne and Narcissa decided to follow their better halves into the loge, a cloud of chatter announced the arrival of another group of spectators. A perceived score of red-heads was nearing, Harry walking towards the stairs wedged between two Weasleys who seemed to be twins, a bushy brown-head Roxanne recognized from the painting in Harry's room following fast behind.

"Mrs. Malfoy, Mrs. Greengrass," the greetings of Arthur and Molly were more or less polite, but in Molly's case accompanied by an angry glare towards Roxanne. Every single Weasley shot a curious glance towards her, some of them nodding friendly, others – like the sole girl – copying the angry glare of her mother. The last Weasley, the eldest son – with the dragon tooth earring and the long hair looking quite handsome for a Weasley – shortly stopped and bowed slightly with a smile on his face in front of the ladies before he followed his family.

"One minute," Harry told the youngest Weasley brother before he led Hermione towards his godmother. A bit hesitantly he remembered the lessons in House Pinegrew, tried to follow Bill's example and bowed slightly towards Narcissa which prompted a raised eyebrow in her case and an agreeing smile from Roxanne.

"Hello Harry, I hope you enjoy the afternoon so far. And this certainly is the remarkable Miss Granger."

Hermione blushed and nervously glanced towards Narcissa Malfoy. Certainly Draco's mother wouldn't be impressed to have a Mudblood around. "I'll leave you for a moment and have an eye on our little ones." While she could have meant their children, Roxanne assumed that Narcissa also spoke about their husbands.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger," Narcissa Malfoy nodded towards the teenagers and while her tone wasn't overly friendly she also didn't show the expected disgust. She even stopped for a moment to look intensely in Hermione's face and there could have been the tiniest of smiles on her lips. But perhaps that was only imagination on Hermione's part.

"Yes, it's fantastic. There is so much to see. Ron bought a Viktor Krum action toy and the twins made a bet about Viktor catching the snitch. I hope they'll win. They could use the money for their joke article shop. I bought three of these" he pointed towards the omniocular he wore around his neck "for Ron, Hermione and me." He stepped aside to allow Roxanne a good look on the girl at his side: "And yes, this is my very best friend Hermione Granger, brightest witch of Hogwarts and the reason I haven't been expelled – so far."

Hermione punched his arm, blushing furiously. Roxanne smiled at the teenagers, thinking about how to progress. She wanted to warn them. A plan of Lucius, containing not only him but Cyrus and those others prats too, could only mean trouble and doubtless trouble for Muggleborn as they were they most favorite slandering theme in those senseless Malfoy-monologues.

"It is good behavior to be generous towards your friends, especially if you have the funds and you regard their pride. You know that not everyone is very good at accepting gifts?" It was hardly a secret that the most distinctive characteristics of the Weasleys were their lack of money and their proudness. After Harry's nod Roxanne continued: "By the way: Should you ever need money, don't hesitate to ask me. I know you'll have enough if you reach the age of seventeen but I assume your inheritance isn't under your full control in the moment."

"No, Hogwarts is paid but apart from that I only have a small monthly allowance. But it has been quite enough so far." In this moment Harry – who rarely thought about money – realized that he had no idea about the amount of money he would inherit coming of age in three years or who was – if anyone – was in charge of the fortune in the meantime. He didn't want to tell her that the small allowance came from Minerva's own pocket, he didn't want her pity.

"Good," Roxanne smiled. "And I heard you already have an excellent broom – a Firebolt, yes? In my opinion a broom is the most important property of a wizard or witch after his wand. Books you can borrow, a place to live you can rent but a respectable wizard has to own the best broom he can afford."

For a moment Harry hesitated, wondering if Roxanne knew that it had been Sirius who bestowed him the Firebolt. As far as he knew Sirius and Roxanne had only a very short conversation. Until his visit she even didn't know the truth behind the events of the last year. This enthusiasm about flying was a new side of her character and a side he liked very much. For a moment he wondered how the other Pinegrew ladies would think about flying.

"That's exactly my thought," he answered with a broad smile, before he turned towards Hermione: "But Hermione doesn't share this opinion. She doesn't like flying in the least. She even made her exam in the first year with a written assignment instead of a flying test."

Roxanne gaped at the girl: "Really?"

Hermione studied the ground very intensely, her ears blushing, the theme of her disgust about flying not very pleasant to her, and nodded slightly.

"I see," Roxanne addressed Harry again, allowing the girl to relax. "So Hermione is your best friend. And she has been helping you with your school work so far. Am I correct?" Harry nodded. "Then you certainly know your duty for the next months, Harry?"

A bit confused Harry stared back before his face lightened: "Show her how to fly?" Hermione tensed and Harry noticed that Roxanne didn't nod. So what could she expect from him? He grinned: "Show Hermione her error and teach her to love flying? Show her the beauty of flying?" Weird – how often had he thought about means to return the favor, to do something for Hermione like she had for him. The point of flying had never crossed his mind.

This time Roxanne nodded. "Perhaps you can invite her to Pinegrew Manor for a few days. I'm sure Agatha would love to help you with 'your duty'. If you'd like that, Hermione?"

Hermione wasn't so certain about her excitement to fly and the question was still open if Harry would go back to Pinegrew Manor after this week anyway. But she had hoped to get to know this woman and her family who could be very important for Harry's future. And Lady Greengrass seemed to be nice enough. A bit hesitantly she answered: "I would love to."

As they ascended to the loge a few minutes later Roxanne had still not been able to speak about the dangers of staying the night at the Quidditch fields.

.

In the loge Lucius Malfoy apparently had started something he called 'polite insulting'. It consisted of compliments that were formulated and worded in a way to be offending but left room for the excuse of being a simple misunderstanding. He targeted Arthur Weasley and had help from a far less talented Cyrus. While Arthur resisted the temptation and stayed calm, the face of Molly Weasley was beet red with anger.

A few steps away Draco and Daphne were in a glaring contest with Ron and Ginny. Percy tried to distract the Minister from the 'childish behavior' of his younger siblings, Bill and Charlie ignored everybody and concentrated on the Quidditch Field below and the twins watched the spectacle with open amusement.

"I should have known that your family of blood traitors would find a way to spoil this afternoon with that disgusting smell of yours. Others would hope that you'd find at least this once the energy to wash and dress somewhat acceptable. Oh, pardon – you don't have something acceptable in your locker," Draco sniggered.

To see Daphne siding with Draco and even ignoring those remarks which normally would cause her to hex the boy was a great surprise to Roxanne. Her daughter death-glared at Ron and he reciprocated the expression without answering directly to his nemesis Draco. "Obviously we aren't disgusting enough not to start ogling us," Ron responded with an ugly smirk. Startled Roxanne noticed the small blush on her daughter's cheeks and the hasty glance she send towards one of the twins.

"What do you mean," Draco asked, oblivious to Daphne's reaction. Ginny on the other side broke a wicked grin: "seems the ice princess has still a hopeless crush on one of the blood traitors."

"What?" Draco grabbed Daphne's arm and turned her around. "Tell me that they're wrong. You can't have feelings for one of these …" Draco made a distracted gesture, struggling for an appropriate description.

Daphne broke free from Draco's grip and spitted into the faces of Ginny and Ron who seemed quite content with the progress of the discussion: "Shut up! You made it quite clear last year how you're thinking about … mingling with snakes." Without waiting for a response – her open anger and frustration prompting Ginny to practically beam with joy – Daphne left the group and walked away to her sister. Draco – confused by that news – followed a few seconds later.

Ron gave Ginny a high-five and watched the Slytherins walk away beaten – at least until the iron hands of the twins grabbed their necks and pulled them towards the edge of the loge. "What was this about?" George's angry glare started to trouble his younger siblings but apparently they still hoped to get the twins' approval.

Very smug Ginny started to explain: "You remember how Daphne had been a recurrent customer to you and your joke articles last year? The reason hadn't been her interest in the articles but" She made a small pause, her grin broadening again: "but her interest in Fred." Ginny pointed towards her brother and both twins looked up only to see Daphne watch them and hastily avert their eyes with pink ear tips.

"The snake had a crush on you," Ron endorsed. "Naturally we told her that you aren't interested in her and that she should get lost." Apparently he expected to get praise from his brother. A few steps away Harry was listening. As he tried to move forward Hermione stopped him and shook her head slightly. "Allow them to clarify this among themselves," she whispered." After a moment he nodded and relaxed again. At least he now knew another reason of Daphne's aversion. To have a crush on somebody and be turned away – and knowing Ron and Ginny and their hate towards Slytherins it had certainly not been in a polite way – was certainly not a very pleasant experience. Certainly she expected him – being Ron's best mate – to have similar feelings about Slytherins and 'mingling with snakes'.

"Are you crazy," Fred bellowed? He repeated a lot quieter: "Are you crazy? She is intelligent, beautiful and has a wicked sense of humor, certainly not the worst features for a girlfriend. Yes, I have no interest in her but the reason is Angelina Johnson, not the fact that the ice princess belongs to Slytherin."

"Whom we date and whom we chuck out," George added, "would be our decision and our decision alone."

Fred scolded very angry: "It is completely wrong to hurt somebody like this." Whispering low enough that Harry was unable to understand it Fred continued: "How would you feel should someone tell you to get lost and not harass Harry anymore? That he would never have any interest in you?"

Ginny's face paled, but she still struggled, trying hard not to look overly in Harry's direction: "This is different. She is a snake. You can't date her."

"If this is your opinion," George rebuked his little sister, "than you're no better than Draco."

.

The mood was quite beaten afterwards. Daphne stayed silent and ignored Draco's glaring. The twins had made sure that their seats were as much apart from their younger siblings as possible. Unbeknownst to Ron and Ginny one reason of the twins' mood was their disappointment about not being able to prank the Slytherins. After hearing about Harry's 'new family' they had decided the evening before to prank the Greengrass girls and assess their reaction. Poor reaction = poor family, in their opinion. Only someone able to endure their pranks with good humor would be appropriate company. But with this death-glare contest between all participants they had to delay their little plan, delay but not forget.

"I knew it," Roxanne mumbled with a low voice "I should have stayed away from the loge."

Only Lucius, Cyrus and the Minister seemed to have a good time and commented the game with much enthusiasm and a very small amount of expertise. For the most of guests in the loge it was a relief when Viktor Krum caught the snitch and ended the game. After a quiet exchange with Cyrus Roxanne ushered her girls towards the exit. They would have another hour for shopping memorabilia before it was time for the portkey. But she had something to do yet.

"Have a nice week," Harry looked up and gave Roxanne a smile. Surprised by her action he allowed her to hug him, feeling that she put something in his pocket before she turned away. It seemed to be a piece of paper but Harry decided to wait a while before he had a look at it. With most of the Weasleys grumbling about someone – the twins and Ginny about each other, the parents about Malfoy and Percy about his family – he was able to read the note a few minutes later.

_Be careful. And watch out for Ms. Granger. _

_There could be some fools running rampant tonight._

Slightly paling he showed Hermione the note, but hastily put it away when Ron noticed something and neared. "Was a great game, Ron, wasn't it?" His mind focused on the weird message Harry tried his best to distract his mate and show a happy face. What could happen tonight? That much was clear: he wouldn't leave Hermione's side for a single minute. And he certainly had some questions to ask next week.


	8. Chapter 8 Shadows in the Night

_**A/N**_

_**Katzztar:**__ Daphne was too far away to hear anything from the discussion between Fred and Ginny. She only saw that Fred was angry about something. Fred whispered because of Harry who was listening. Despite his anger Fred tried to avoid embarrassing Ginny with her feelings towards Harry._

_**Harry:**__ How strong-willed do you like Harry to be? I think this is an important and endless question. Be assured that he'll change over the course of the story but in the beginning I imagine a teenager who just lost a possible caring parent (Sirius) and now is searching for a person of morale and honor. He's still a teenager struggling to find his way after more than a decade of not being allowed to make his own decisions and with no inspiring example in the Dursley household._

.

.

**Shadows in the Night**

_Quidditch Field Camp – 17__th__ of August late evening_

.

Laden with souvenirs and in higher spirits than before, the Weasley family had reached the camp an hour ago. Molly instantly started to prepare the dinner, forcing Ginny to help her and banishing Harry from the cooking fire. He would have liked to help. Cooking had been the sole chore in the Dursley home he had started to like and he was quite proud of his ability to prepare simple meals without burning them to charcoal. But Molly wanted to hear nothing of it. "Enjoy yourself," she uttered.

Enjoy – how could he do that? With Percy gone – certainly near the Minister again – Ron still on the road with Seamus and Dean – Hermione had assumed some boasting about the Irish victory and drinking Butterbeer out of Molly's sight – and Bill and Charlie trying to find whatever they tried to find, only Hermione, Fred and George were at the camp. Hermione had retired to the tent she shared with Molly and Ginny, a book in her hand, and Harry knew better than to disturb her only because he felt bored. Hermione had never been a great fan of Quidditch and certainly deserved a bit of peace after enduring a whole day of Quidditch fanaticism.

As Harry turned around he saw Fred playing with one of his fake wands. One of those had been part of the bet he had won this afternoon. Ludo Bagman had offered him five galleons for the wand, nearly the same amount a student had to pay for his first real wand. Harry found it easy to imagine the twins living from selling those joke articles and not living bad from it. But it wouldn't be easy to convince Molly of their plans. And they needed more money to start with that shop, money the Weasley family simply had not to spare. Roxanne had mentioned the money of his parents. Perhaps he should speak with her about it.

Fred was still mad at his younger siblings. Perhaps he should try to soothe the waves, Harry pondered. Playing the peacemaker would at least be a change to sitting around bored.

"Fred," he started and waited for the twin to look up before he continued. Harry had always liked Fred more while Hermione preferred the slightly more serious George. _If anyone was able to see something serious about one of the twins_, Harry sniggered silently. Since they had given him the Marauder's Map, the same map his father had created with the help of Sirius and Remus more than a decade ago, the twins were in Harry's good books. "You do know that Ron and Ginny … they didn't want to hurt you or something. They wanted to protect you in a way. I think they learned something about interfering in others' love affairs today."

"Do you?" Fred's expression was a mask of resignation. "I … I'm not sure about that. Yes, you're right about Ginny and Ron wanting to help me. But it is wrong to follow prejudices like this. And they really assumed I would be the same. Do they even know me? I certainly don't like the Slytherins. George and I pranked them more often than members of all other house together. Only Filch …"

He smiled shortly remembering all those pranks they had played on the unpopular groundskeeper – a smile that Harry shared happily as he had been on the receiving end of Filch's curses way too often in the past.

"But I don't play pranks because they're Slytherins. I prank them because they're prats and Slytherin coincidentally has the largest accumulation of prats." Fred sighed and leaned his back against a tree, shortly scrubbing his back against the bark. "But you know … Daphne … she's not like that. She's one of the few Slytherins with a sense of humor. Not the 'humor' of Draco, only anxious to hurt someone's emotions but real humor. Not that I would dare to hassle her.

"Last year we spent a week of detention together after she hexed Montague. He certainly deserved the three days he had to spend in the Hospital Wing. Daphne never said the reason for the hex but I've never seen someone smiling so happily in detention, sometimes bursting with laughter while she was polishing the cups."

Montague – Harry remembered him: a giant of a boy, playing on a Chaser position in the Slytherin team, equally untalented as Draco Malfoy but even more tending to foul play. Fred was right about that: Montague deserved any Hospital stay he got.

"But what bothers me the most about all this is the vision of Ginny and especially Ron acting the same the next time. You know them long enough, Harry. Do you really think that Ron will change his ways in the future? That he will be able to see his error and act more mature next time? Don't get me wrong: I love my little brother and there is no girl as important as Ginny to me, not even Angelina – but she is a close second – but I see their faults very clearly and painfully sometimes."

Harry shared Fred's smile again, but his smile was a bit stressed. In a way he had thought the same. More than once Ron had misbehaved in the past and acted on his stubbornness and prejudices. It was easy to get on his wrong side and difficult to be back on good terms afterwards. More than once Hermione had to apologize to Ron despite him being the one who had wronged her. "You don't have to answer, Harry, I see it in your face."

They sat there in silence for some time, staring into the fire. Just as Harry thought about wandering around a bit – in sight of the tents but able to move his legs a bit – Fred looked up again: "I have a favor to ask you, Harry. You're still planning to go there again – to this family?"

Harry deliberated on that question for some moments. He wasn't certain that the Pinegrew ladies – especially Daphne – would like to have him back at the Manor after this afternoon. But the invitation of Roxanne was still pending and he knew that Hermione would gladly have a prolonged conversation with the Pinegrew ladies. "I think so. Hedwig is still there, my tomcat and my trunk too. At least for a day I have to go there and I plan to spend some more time at the Manor. Why do you ask?"

"Could you speak with her in my stead? Speak with Daphne and explain …"

"… that you don't have qualms about mingling with the snakes," Harry continued with a wicked grin.

"Yeah, something like this. Perhaps you could reword it a little. I don't want to lead her on should she still fancy me, only want to make clear that I didn't want to hurt her. And I'd like to avoid Angelina overhearing that conversation. It would certainly not enhance my chances with her."

"I don't think she has still those feelings. It only embarrasses her to speak about it. Like Hermione if you reminds her of her crush on Lockhart in our second year." For a moment both boys thought about Hermione and the adoration she shared with half of the girls at Hogwarts two years ago. She had been flattened to see 'her hero' betray the trio out of fear as they descended to the chamber of secrets.

"Okay, I'll speak with her," Harry stopped Fred's cry of joy with a gesture. "I'll speak with her under one condition."

Fred frowned. "I thought you're my friend," he grumbled.

"I am and because of this I have a condition: If I speak with Daphne you'll stop admiring Angelina from afar and invite her to the ball. And I want her to have the most wonderful evening with 'Fred the complete gentleman' – with sweets, flowers, compliments and all. Good night kiss included. Do we have a deal?"

In the last year more than one game and more or less every training session had suffered under Fred and Angelina ogling each other. That even Harry had noticed their behavior spoke volumes about the 'we're only platonic friends'. And he had enough of this. If they needed a small push then Harry was willing to use this opportunity.

"Invite Angelina? Flowers? I can do that." Fred blushed as he tried to convince himself. "Gentleman, yes, that's what I am." He blinked at Harry as he realized: "Ball? What ball do you speak about?"

Harry looked around – no listeners: "It's still kind of secret in the moment. There will be a ball at Hogwarts this year. And I don't think of a kind of costume or Halloween but a real ball. Roxanne told me. She even gave me a coupon for Gladrag's Wizardwear to buy a new robe."

"I see, good to know." Fred narrowed his eyes as he stared intensely at Harry. "So Roxanne it is now?"

The slightest hint of color entered Harry's face: "She offered me to call her … I mean … she'll be my mother in a way … godmother … adoptive mother. It is only natural that I call her …"

"Mother, yes," Fred grinned. "Quite a looker of a mother, don't you think so? Even more than her daughter."

"Oh," the color intensified. "I didn't even notice. And Daphne, she'll be my sister. I don't look at her like this."

"Sister, yeah," Fred's face nearly split in half with the grin. "If you say so."

Luckily the darkness hid most of the color now, as Harry left his place and mumbled: "Git."

.

For the twenty-third time Harry turned around on his cot and the night was still young. The message from Roxanne left him unable to find sleep. The whole afternoon and evening he had been restless, waiting for some kind of attack. But nothing happened. Should he speak with Arthur about the warning? Or perhaps tell Ron about it? He was uncertain, especially about their reaction and if he would be able to hide the source of it. In the end it had been Bill he warned …

.

"_Bill, do you have a minute?"_

_The smile left Bill's face and he shortly narrowed his eyes as he noticed the serious expression on Harry's face. With a silent nod he suspended his unpacking and followed the boy. Harry, shifting his stance every few seconds and his eyes more concentrated on the surroundings than on his conversation partner, did a good job at alarming the curse-breaker._

"_I … I've gotten a warning." Harry shifted his stance again. _

"_What kind of warning?"_

"_Kind of … unspecified warning … that something could happen tonight."_

"_An attack on you?" Bill asked, now feeling really troubled._

"_N-no, didn't sound like that. More general trouble. But she … the warning said I had to watch out for Hermione."_

_Bill studied Harry's face quite intensely. While he didn't know the boy as well as his parents or Ron did, they had spent enough time together to be sure that Harry wouldn't fabricate stories about something like this. And he seemed really agitated and concerned. _

"_Alright. I'll set a few wards around the camp, wards to warn us. With all those drunkards around I can't put on something more seriously."_

_Harry nodded thankfully, allowing a small smile to appear on his face. With confusion he watched as Bill removed a silvery chain with an amulet he wore around his neck. He put it in Harry's hand. "For Hermione to wear tonight."_

.

Ginny had glared at him as he put the amulet around Hermione's neck. Perhaps he should have waited until they were alone but at least his friend understood the reasoning of the gesture.

Harry turned around for the thirty-second time as something small hit the tent, the alarming wards instantly awakening Bill. As the eldest Weasley left his cot and banished within seconds the charm that had given him the appearance of wearing pajamas, Harry realized how serious he had taken the warning. With his words so often belittled by other adults in the last years he felt deep thankfulness for Ron's brother.

Bill left the tent and Harry sat up. He started to put on his boots and was hardly done as Bill returned. With a hard face he stirred Charlie, ignoring Harry's questions: "Charlie, wake the others. Put on boots, cloaks, wands, nothing else. Hurry up! I wake the girls."

Trusting his dragon-tamer brother to follow his instructions Bill hurriedly left the tent again, leaving behind a gaping Harry. With his lack of sleep Harry had at least the benefit of not being drowsy as the Weasleys. Grumbling and moaning but they still followed Charlie's orders – Arthur being the fastest one and leaving the tent seconds before Charlie turned Ron's cot around and poured the cursing boy to the ground.

With some silence spells still active on the tent it came as a shock to see and hear what was happening in the camp. Everywhere wizards and witches of all ages were running around, mostly in nightwear and not nearly everyone with a wand at hand. Many were discussing in small groups about what was going on. At a distance some tents were burning and there seemed to be quite an uproar. Slowly the whole Weasley family plus Harry and Hermione had gathered.

"Fred, George, Harry, Ron, Hermione … you'll go with Mum to the meeting place at the portal. Charlie, Dad and I check up what's going on," Bill quite naturally was in charge of the situation, his tone not really allowing any protest – at least apart from his twin brothers.

"We want," George started.

"To come with you," Fred continued.

"We're old enough," George ascertained.

"We can help," Fred offered.

Noticing the hard, no-nonsense look of the eldest Weasley brother Harry refrained from saying anything and went at Hermione's side instead. "You'll do as I said. You'll watch out for Mum and the kids and not endanger them."

Still unhappy about not being allowed to go with Bill but proud to be entrusted with their family's security the twins nodded and quickly started to harass Ron and Ginny, urging them to leave. Before he left Bill shortly stared at Harry and after a silent exchange to stay safe he hurried away, Charlie and Arthur closely behind.

.

If he expected the walk to the meeting place being anything like orderly or peacefully, Harry was in for a bad surprise. Dozens of other wizards and witches around them hurried in the same direction. Constant chatter was filling the air and an eerie light allowed them to find their way. They had stopped to use Lumos spells because of the many campfires around them and a few more burning tents.

The reason for these burning tents became clear very fast as they noticed some shadows flying over the treetops. Apart from the brooms and dark cloaks not much was visible but the effects of their doings couldn't be ignored. From time to time these shadows pelted the fugitives with small objects that caused fire or created clouds of smoke. The whole experience was quite surreal and reminded Harry of some WWII-films he had seen years ago.

Before they had left the tents, Harry ascertained with a touch to Hermione's neck that she still wore the necklace. Not realizing that Ginny was glaring again he shook his head in mild amusement as he noticed the book bag his friend wore around her shoulder. _Trust Hermione to set her priorities right even in the darkest hour_, he sniggered.

With Molly at the front and the twins taking flanking positions Harry stayed at Hermione's side while Ron helped his baby sister. Not that she really needed his help. Ginny was far more agile and less clumsy in this nightly forest and in a duel Harry would bet on her victory over her older brother. But this was the Weasley way, a kind of Ginny-protective-gene.

More than once he had the feeling that someone was observing him but with so many persons around it was hard to ascertain. A shadow skimmed across the treetops, a second following closely behind. Harry more felt then saw them changing directions and coming back. Seizing Hermione's hand Harry hurried on, his eyes now more trained to the sky than to the way. Something small was falling down, not much greater than a snitch. Thrusting her aside Harry pushed Hermione to the ground. Only a few steps away something exploded and set a tree on fire. Several smoke bombs followed, one of them nearly hitting the boy. The smoke filled his lungs within seconds and prompted him to choke and cough.

"Harry?"

Damned, he had released her hand. Hermione was nowhere to be seen. No wonder with the sight being under three steps now.

"Hermione?" Coughing and spitting he started to search her, heard the twins calling for their mother, the voices surprisingly far away. Someone rushed through the darkness in panic, crashed into the boy and sent him flying away. A second later the unknown was away, swallowed up by the smoke again.

Fearing that he was running around in circles Harry was relieved to stumble over something, recognizing it as Hermione's bag. "Hermione?" He was going in the right direction, he simply had to be. "Hermione?"

A red flash penetrated the darkness, a low cry … her voice. His heart pumping wildly Harry followed the voice. More spells between two duelists crossed the night. There were more shadows in the night, not fully visible for Harry. More than one attacker? He expected at least a second one. How justified that was became clear a few seconds later. A small form – Hermione – just left her position, her enemy on the ground after being hit by a Jelly-Legs Jinx. Just as Harry opened his mouth to call her, she went down with a cry, her movement impaired through a Leg Locker Jinx, swiftly followed by an Expelliarmus she was unable to dodge.

Her second enemy was hidden from Harry's view by a number of trees. To distract him he sent two stunner spells in rapid succession roughly in his direction. As expected he only hit trees but at least the attacker stopped his steps and turned around. A dark cloak, a silvery mask – a Deatheater costume, Harry groaned.

He had to fight the desperation in his heart as he saw the first attacker rising from the ground. Apparently he had been able to counter Hermione's jinx in the meantime. And then there was the third person he had sensed somewhere to the left. He could only hope that it wasn't an attacker but simply another refugee. Certainly he shouldn't hope for help but two Deatheaters were already more than enough for two students barely in their fourth year.

"Protego!"

Harry had been thinking about the situation a second too long. The stunner of his enemy would have hit him without Hermione's shielding spell. Unable to spare the second to send her a thanking nod Harry concentrated on his enemy again. He dodged a jinx, a second one, sending an Expelliarmus on the way but missing again. He had to win this duel and win fast before the second one …

"Reducto!"

In the nick of time Harry dodged the spell that blasted the tree behind him to shreds. The soft ground broke his fall and he protected his face from the hail of splinters with his arm.

As fast as possible Hermione sent her spells towards the first attacker who had flanked Harry and cast the dangerous Reducto spell while the boy was concentrating on the second one. This was nothing like the dueling classes in Hogwarts. It was only a question of seconds before Hermione would succumb to her enemy. How could they beat two adult Deatheaters, two Deatheaters that seemed to know what they did? Like a baboon Harry dodged the next spells, never able to really fight back. Fast the ground around him was packed with broken off branches. His own Protego spells were unable to block more than one spell of his enemy while that blasted dark-cloak seemed more amused than anything else about Harry's attempts to hit him in return.

Harry stumbled, watching out for his friend a split second too long. Crushing he hit the ground, nearly losing his wand in the process, scraping the skin of his arm. Cursing he started to stand up, looking directly into the mask of his enemy, sensing the grin behind the mask. Hypnotized following the tip of the wand Harry tried to anticipate the spell and how to avoid it.

"Reduc …"

"Reducto!"

From the left a second spell darted thru the darkness and hit hand and wand of Harry's foe. With a cry of pain he stumbled back, clutching the stump where his hand had been seconds before. Horrified Harry turned around to see the third 'attacker', this one in a dark cloak too but his face hidden behind some dark fog instead of a mask. Something blinked at his wrist as he hastily turned around and cast a powerful Protego in front of Hermione, who had tried to hide behind a tree, panting heavily from exhaustion.

"Reenervate!" Feeling new energy coursing through her body Hermione sensed someone pulling her up from the ground. Forcing the first attacker away with three powerful Reducto spells, even sending a smaller tree crushing to the ground, Hermione's savior started to run away, dragging the girl behind. The stranger had no regards for Harry, perhaps simply trusting the boy to keep in step. The wailing of his impaired enemy was left behind and after a time Harry felt reasonable secure that their attackers weren't following them.

Someone had just lost his wand hand, an injury even medi-witches weren't able to fully compensate. And he had nearly been hit by the same spell, targeted to kill him. Harry felt his knees weaken in shock, but he had no time for these emotions. The small and slender frame of the stranger in front of him, Hermione at his side, Harry realized that the meeting point couldn't be far away now. Hopefully the Weasleys had reached it; hopefully they hadn't tried to search for Hermione and him.

Only as the meeting point with hundreds of escapees came in sight, the foreigner allowed them to stop and released the iron grip on Hermione's wrist. Panting Harry hurried at Hermione's side and grabbed her shoulders.

"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" His words came haltingly.

Her exhaustion not allowing her to respond with words Hermione hugged him. "I'm okay."

Allowing her to find her breathe again Harry looked back, fearing to see their attackers again. But there were no shadows between the trees. Only after some moments he noticed that they were alone again. The stranger had left without a word.

.

_The Burrow – 19__th__ of August mid-morning_

The hours since their rude awakening had been confusing and exhausting. Molly's tears, Ron's fruitless tries not to be too unmanly in his relief, the twins' anger – _do you have an idea what Bill would have done to us?_ – and the uneasy feeling when Ginny hugged him at the meeting point. Slowly news trickled thru about the events in the camp.

Apparently a large number of former Deatheaters – even disregarding the obvious exaggerations Harry assumed that there had been more than a score of them – had tried to cause a lot of trouble and to cast a poor light on the competence of the Ministry. And to his regret Harry had to admit that they did a splendid job about that. Dozens of Aurors and Ministry officials had not been able to bring order into the thousands of panicked spectators. Dozens had been hurt, tens of thousands of galleons in property been destroyed.

Shielded by their co-conspirators a handful of Deatheaters had terrified the family of the groundkeeper. The Muggles had been levitated into the air, not understanding what happened, not knowing if they would survive. Arthur, Charlie and Bill had tried to instigate some resistance and to help the poor people, but some officials had intervened, held back the helpers because of the 'possible dangers'. There had even been some brawling between the helpers – Charlie had a black eye and Bill some bruises – certainly causing endless joy to the Deatheaters.

In the end it had been a quartet of furious harpies that broke the stalemate. The ancient Griselda Marchbanks – leader of the board of examiners and still able to remember the day Dumbledore had taken his NEWTs – had lashed out at the stunned Ministry officials with biting words, allowing her dear friend Augusta Longbottom, flanked by Minerva "my-eyes-are-on-fire" McGonagall and a surprisingly livid Pomona Sprout to break the lines and open fire on the surprised Deatheaters. With the Weasleys quickly joining many bystanders felt ashamed by their own helplessness and rushed in too. Sheer numbers did what the Aurors hadn't been able to do: drive the Deatheaters away.

Perhaps the Ministry officials would have been proven right in the end, perhaps it would have ended bad for the family of Muggles, if not for a trio of Irish Chasers that proved with their 'fly-to-the-rescue' that their teamwork in the afternoon hadn't been a one-off. At the right time they had acted and rescued the Muggles, saved them from falling down as they abductors started to flee.

It was long before all Weasleys were together again and even longer before they had been able to return to their tents. With nobody able to find sleeps they had started to pack and prepared to leave in the morning. There was still much chaos in the camp and they needed a long time before they were allowed to use the portkey. Aside from the still alert looking Charlie and Bill everyone was deathly exhausted as they reached the Burrow at last.

.

"Bill?" Hermione went to the eldest Weasley brother, clenching the amulet she had received the day before. Had it really only been twelve hours ago that Harry had put the amulet around her neck? She had sensed it each time that the amulet had absorbed a jinx, absorbed at least a part of a stunning spell. Hermione was more than a little thankful about this splendid gift.

Harry followed her, even now unwilling to leave her unprotected. They had decided not to tell anybody about the attack. The attack had been deflected and the Weasleys certainly couldn't use more agitation now. Molly had been anxious enough and Harry had no idea how she would feel knowing that someone had tried to kill them. So they had made up a story of losing direction and stumbling through the woods, explaining their disheveled look.

"Thank you for the amulet," Hermione smiled at him and put it into his hands.

Bill returned the smile and started to speak as he stiffened. Frowning, narrowing his eyes he stared at the amulet.

_Was he able to feel that …_

Harry groaned inwardly. Naturally Bill would somehow feel that something happened to the amulet and its wearer; that it hadn't been only branches that hit Hermione.

In silence he stared at her, locked eyes with Harry, noticed the plea to stay quiet about his knowledge and understood that they didn't want to frighten his parents. Bill simply nodded and instead of accepting the amulet back he stepped forward and put it around Hermione's neck again. "You should wear it for a while. You can return it later."

Before he entered the house Bill shortly stopped at Harry's side and whispered with an iron voice: "Never again hide something like this from me, understood?"

Harry could only nod to Bill and accept the grateful hug of Hermione.

HermionhH


	9. Chapter 9 Second Service

**Second Service**

_The Burrow – 26th of August midmorning_

.

Rather gently Harry put Hermione's trunk down near the chimney. In a few minutes they would use it for their travel to Pinegrew Manor. He had never liked the experience of floo-ing very much but it was the fastest variant and certainly to be preferred to sidelong apparating. With his belongings, apart from a small bundle, still there he had offered Hermione to help her with her baggage. Knowing her it was no wonder that there had been enough trash in her room to resemble a house moving.

_Sorry, not trash but precious and useful bits of learning and education_, Harry sniggered, imitating Hermione's voice in his mind. The books alone filled two small crates and even with small levitating charms on them he had no idea how she hoped to get them to Hogwarts. Or how she imagined placing them in the room she would share with Lavender and Parvati.

Molly was working in the kitchen, the twins and Ginny in the garden, officially to de-gnome it. This left him alone in the living room for a few minutes and allowed him to collect his thoughts.

The first two days after the nightly battle had been hellish. It had needed a few hours for the shock to settle in but then the reaction had only been the stronger. Perhaps he should be used to this kind of danger through his former adventures, but he hoped that it was a good sign not to be too apathetic. He could have died that night. Hermione could have died. Dozens of people had been wounded on both sides. He felt sympathy for the poor Muggle family that had been caught in the battle and undergone a terrible experience. Arthur had told them that those Muggles had been obliviated later. Perhaps that had been for the best.

He had felt so helpless in that fight. After years of fights against Draco and his groupies, after several dangerous adventures and surviving them, he perhaps had trusted too much in his own abilities and those of Hermione. She was the brightest-witch-of-her-generation and he was the-boy-who-lived, the seeker with the lightning reflexes. They should have been able to win. But in reality they had barely been able to survive long enough for the cavalry to arrive.

_The cavalry_. After a week of pondering he was further afar from identifying their rescuer than ever. A hand wearing a wand, something glittering. That image didn't leave his mind. But was it an old, gnarled hand or a young one, masculine or feminine? Had the glittering been a wrist watch – being a proof for the rescuer to be a Muggleborn – or a bangle? Harry wished he could call back that picture and stop it like a real film, zoom onto that hand to see all details. Their rescuer had been walking – no: running – in front of him but he wasn't able to remember how large he had been. Larger than Hermione perhaps, but larger than himself, than Ron? A slender frame and the motions of …

Harry groaned. It was hopeless.

From above he heard Hermione starting to come down the stairs. One of her baggage items would be Crookshanks cage. Harry hoped that Crookshanks would be able to get along with Balou. Hermione's orange-furred monster was very obstinate from time to time. His presence had been the reason that he couldn't ask Hermione to care for his tomcat. She wouldn't have been allowed to own two cats and so he had spoken with Ginny. To his surprise – but apparently not to Hermione's – she seemed to be quite eager to help him. They would meet in the train and from then on she would care for Harry's newest friend.

With a bump Hermione reached the floor, her face invisible behind the book crates and the cage until she set them down. Relieved Harry noticed that she didn't look very tense. Bill, the only Weasley knowing about the nightly fight, had spent some hours with both of them and spoken about the experience. He certainly had his own experiences with awful moments and was able to understand their thoughts and emotions. Even Hermione's admission that she felt pity for the Deatheater who lost his hand, hadn't caused confusion or disgust on Bill's part but relaxed comprehension.

_Hermione_ – it would need some more bad experiences to reach a state of mind of being able to cast Reducto spells against a living human. Harry hoped that this would never happen to her.

"I'm ready, let's go." Hermione grinned, apparently trying to appear relaxed and happy. Harry smiled back, taking part in her small game. "Let's go."

.

_Pinegrew Manor _

"Hello Hermione, welcome to Pinegrew Manor;" Roxanne seemed a bit tense as she offered Hermione her hand, her eyes wandering towards Harry. She had sent an owl to him with a letter a week ago and knew from his answer that he had been alright so far; and Hermione too. But there still had been the question of his emotional and mental welfare. But he was alright apparently and the Mistress of Pinegrew Manor allowed herself to relax and her pressed smile to soften.

"I'm happy to be here, Lady Greengrass," Hermione responded, quite naturally switching to her most polite behavior. In moments like this Harry remembered that her uprising had been quite different to his own, that she hadn't been hidden in her room every time guests were around and that her parents had introduced her to a ladylike behavior – even if Hermione most often presented a quite different appearance.

"Please, call me Roxanne. I've heard so much about you; it seems to me that I'd know you for years." The words were a bit overstated but sounded to be meant seriously.

"Roxanne," Hermione nodded with a small and cautious smile. Harry studied the floor for a moment to hide his grin. Perhaps Hermione just remembered occurrences in the past with students – mostly girls – trying to get her friendship only in the hope to use her for Harry's sympathy. He didn't expect the same line of thought from Roxanne but at least she seemed quite eager to make a good impression on his best friend. Would she be able to behave the same around Ron? He doubted it. Sometimes it was quite hard work to be polite around Ron and his stupid, irate and prejudiced behavior. Ron was a good mate, had been the whole time, but certainly not an easy friend to have.

"Ciddy will help you with your baggage. Hermione has the room beside yours. It is not very large but I thought you would like to have a room on the same floor. Make yourself at home. We'll meet for lunch in an hour, if that's okay for you."

.

"This is …"

Hermione had stored her baggage away with Ciddy's help, freed Crookshanks from his cage – he had looked a bit indignant and went straight under the bed to have his peace – and hurried into Harry's room. Instantly she had noticed the painting. On purpose Harry hadn't mentioned it, hoped to see her reaction and he wasn't disappointed. Gaping and being lost of words Hermione stared at the painting. After some moments of silently moving her lips she looked around, went to the dressing-table – Harry had tried to give it a more masculine touch covering it with all kind of folderol and Quidditch equipment – and fetched the mirror.

Seconds later she compared her mirror image with the painting, her fingers trailing the lines of her face. "Beautiful," she announced at last.

"Yes, you are," Harry agreed quite seriously but totally unromantic as the lack of blushing proved.

"Git," Hermione reacted, her punch not hitting his arm because of his fast dodging. "Be a man and allow me to punish you appropriately."

"No," Harry whined, "I bruise …"

"… easily," a third voice a concluded. Daphne had entered the room quietly and now glared at Harry. "You should try your own lines from time to time and not loan from books." Her face – to Harry's surprise – shortly softened as she looked at Hermione, before it hardened again with her eyes on his face.

_She's more acceptable to a Muggleborn in her home than to my presence. Either she has much less prejudices than her Slytherin comrades or I'm much worse than I thought_.

"Not everyone can have a wit as quickly as you ladies," Harry responded, trying to present a relaxation he didn't feel around her. "Hello, Daphne."

"So you're back," she snarled. "How wonderful."

She hadn't been very nice the days before he left but this level of hate was new. He had spoken with Hermione about pros and contras of living here. Hermione being Hermione she even wrote a list about it. While Roxanne and Agatha were clear plus points of such an arrangement and Cyrus the most important fault and danger, it had been Daphne who opened more questions than she did give answers.

_Irrespective of your decision, Harry, I'll stay at your side. As long as I'm allowed to be your friend I'll endure every family you'll choose_. Her words had been a bit melodramatic and his reaction a bit whiny, but he was thankful to have her at his side this trustingly, especially because he expected much more problems from his best mate Ron about this.

He had delayed his decision, wanted to speak with Roxanne about her knowledge in regard of the nightly attack and with Daphne about her feelings towards him – and the Weasleys. The discussion about Fred he would delay for a few days, hoping for their relation to improve a bit until then. There wasn't only hate in her voice, but something else. Desperation, he would think, grief, concern – a weird mix of emotions he didn't quite understand in the moment. _Girls are very weird_, he thought.

For a moment he was distracted by the entrance of a small furball he had eagerly awaited to see again. Ignoring the tension in the room the black-white tomcat – with his tail held high and the ears playing around – jumped on the sideboard besides the bed and stared at Harry with a look of reproach. "He missed you," Daphne explained, her voice surprisingly soft for a short moment. To cover this moment of weakness the girl asked Hermione, her face now again an expressionless mask: "And you're alright? Quidditch finals and the time with the Weasley rode out well?"

A bit surprised by the sudden question Hermione still nodded: "Yes, all was well. I hadn't been injured …" She faltered, looked shortly at Harry before she continued: "I'm alright."

"Good," Daphne sighed, glancing sideways at Harry again who was fondling his tomcat and tried – badly – to appear as not listening. "At least this time following Harry didn't land you in the infirmary."

"It is not Harry who's endangering me," Hermione growled back after some seconds of stunned silence. This was so unfair. She knew how often Harry blamed himself for every bad that happened to her. More than once she had to convince him, that it hadn't been his fault. And this time she had been quite secure that not Harry but she had been the target of the attack – for whatever reason. A hasty glance told her that Harry's face had paled, that his thoughts were running in just the same direction of 'his fault' again.

Daphne seemed unimpressed by her growling and coldly remarked: "He is endangering you. Every year since you have been at Hogwarts something bad happened, Harry. To those around you, you mean danger and double that for your friends. Around you people fight, get hurt or killed."

"Stop that right now," Hermione yelled in hot fury. "It had been my decision as it had been all these years. Harry is my friend. It isn't his fault that there are morons running around and dreaming of a better time with Muggle-blood flowing thru the streets. And if you're defending these bastards against him, then it is perhaps better for Harry to leave this house for good."

Hermione stopped her rambling with a cry as Daphne's hand collided with her cheek. The lip cracked and a deep red mark on the skin; that slap must have hurt. Hermione blinked a few times, too shocked by her own words – even more than by the reaction they caused – to say something. "How dare you. After all what mother did for him." Daphne stopped fuming and glaring at Hermione, but there was a small crack in her emotional shield, a deep fear and care visible in her eyes. He had been right about her. _Something deeply troubled Daphne_, Harry noticed, _she's deathly afraid_.

The hand hitting Hermione … the small, slender hand … something glittering … something he had seen a week ago and again an hour ago on another wrist. "Your mother," he whispered, his words causing Daphne to pale. "It had been your mother in the forest."

For a moment Hermione's face showed only confusion but then she grasped Harry's meaning. She grabbed Daphne's arms and tried to lock eyes with her, but the Slytherin girl stared to the ground. "Your mother protected us, saved our lives a week ago. Is Harry right?"

Hermione had to let her go as Daphne's legs gave away and she slumped onto the ground. Only seconds later Harry was sitting on his bed, taking a seat before he followed Daphne's example. He didn't really react to the small furry head that started to rub his side, trying to comfort him. _I have been so blind_, Harry thought. _Who else could it have been? She warned me, she watched over me and then she defended me._

Daphne's voice was shaking as she explained: "I knew that your presence would endanger her, knew it from the start. You wouldn't only mean trouble or that it had to endure the hateful remarks of your Gryffindor friends and my own housemates, but you would endanger her health and life. And now, after only a single month you proved how right I had been about you." She sighed and battled a hiccup without success before she was able to go on, the small stains on the carpet below her face telling Hermione how Daphne's face would look now. "Hermione is right. It is not your fault. But that changes nothing. Being near you, caring for you means playing with fire."

Harry made a small step forward and started to answer, Hermione's hand on his arm stopping him. He looked at his friend, his mind working furiously. Hermione shook her head, her eyes telling 'give her some time'.

As Daphne raised her face now, her eyes were red and puffy. That she not even tried to hide her tears told him how agitated she had to be in the moment. "Can't you understand that I'm terrified, terrified that something terrible happens to my mother? She could have been killed. She could have been forced to kill to protect you. I saw her afterwards; I had to soothe her and wait for father's return, fearing that it could have been him." Harry gulped, Hermione paled. Yes, it had been quite possible that Cyrus Greengrass had been there, been one of the Deatheaters and their helpers, perhaps even one of the attackers. He was a friend of Lucius Malfoy after all and they had no doubt that Draco's bastard of a father had been one of the culprits.

"Yes, he had been there – had been one of those gits trying to belittle the Ministry. But he wasn't the one who tried to kill you. Are you pleased, Harry? That you had been right about us bastard Slytherins you hate so much?" Her voice was so bitter now. It was all there, not only the grief and concern but also her firm opinion that he would share the opinion of his friends about the 'bad snakes'; that he would be happy to see his prejudices proven. And only two months ago she would have been right. Only two months ago he would have – perhaps hesitantly – accepted Ron's prejudices about the evil Slytherins.

"I don't hate you," Harry whispered, stunned by her emotional outburst, but she ignored him.

"Cyrus is a dunderhead and his reasoning about blood purity is an affront to logic and reasoning. But he is still my father. He has been my mother's husband for fifteen years. I don't want to see my mother forced to choose between you and him, I don't want to see her breakdown should she be forced to kill him to protect you, only because Lucius 'bubblehead' Malfoy hates you and convinces him to something more stupid than regular."

Harry nearly giggled as she used the word dunderhead, a word he had heard too often from Snape. But a look into her eyes told him to behave better. He hadn't thought about that, hadn't thought about the dilemma of Roxanne. Somehow he assumed that, if Roxanne and Daphne really didn't share Cyrus political view, that there wouldn't be any feelings that could be hurt. He had, quite wrongly, assumed that Roxanne would be able to fight her husband without remorse.

Harry felt quite bad in this moment. He hadn't been better than Ron in his assumption about the loveless snakes.

"Someone lost his wand hand, Harry. I don't know who it had been and my mother either. But we'll know very soon. A wound like that can't simply be healed. It will be visible, a reminder for that battle to the wearer, how he had lost the fight and his hand. He will hate you all the more, Harry, his wish to kill you increasing. And he will seek for revenge. Mum's life will be endangered should anyone learn about her part in that fight."

Daphne's voice died down. "She could have stayed with me that night, stayed secure. But she wanted to take care and went after you. I wished …"

_That she had stayed. That you had died_, Harry complemented inwardly, but Daphne stayed silent. "I don't want you to die, Harry, and Hermione neither," she whispered nearly unhearable to his surprise. "But my mother is more important to me."

The rustling of clothes startled her and she stood up as she saw her mother entering the room. Roxanne glided at her daughter's side and embraced her, her eyes lying on Harry. "Cyrus had been there under one of those masks. He isn't a Deatheater, yet, but near enough to Lucius to follow his stupid plans sometimes. But he hadn't been the attacker and Lucius either. He not even knew about the attack, it hadn't been part of the plan. Mad as they are, they had only uproar in mind, not death. We'll have to wait who'll show up – short of a hand."

Gently Roxanne kissed her daughter's forehead, before she continued to hug and sway her softly. "You know that we have to help him, Daphne. Without friends like Hermione, without a family he won't survive, not with his propensity for the dramatic."

Daphne sighed and whispered into her mother's breast: "Yes, he is a little drama queen."

"Hey," Harry complained and glared in Hermione's direction as his friend dared to giggle. With a smile Hermione took a seat at his side and put her arm around his shoulders comfortingly.

"Sorry, Harry, she's right about that. You're a little drama queen sometimes with a strong world-savior-complex."

"Am not" Harry pouted but apparently not even Balou believed him. The blasted tomcat seemed to grin. But a tomcat wasn't able to grin, Harry decided.

Roxanne smiled softly. "I wanted to fetch you for lunch."

While Harry and Hermione followed her to the small dining room, Daphne excused herself and went to her room. While they waited for her return, Harry more than once started to say something. Should he simply thank her? Should he tell her not to endanger herself again? Daphne had been right: To be near him meant to be in constant danger. Too often something happened around him and someone landed in the infirmary. He wasn't willing to add another person to the list of possible targets.

Someone kicked his shin. Startled Harry looked up and saw Hermione's glare. "Don't you dare to reject her because of your hero-complex," she growled unparticular noiseless. Roxanne tried to ignore that conversation and played with her silverware. "You won't reject my help or Ron's. And Roxanne is a grown up woman. She's certainly old enough to make her own decisions regarding you. If you want to reject her, please don't do that because you want to protect her." Roxanne bestowed Hermione a small thankful smile as the door opened.

"Here," Daphne announced on her return and put a small, well-used book and a notebook on the table near Hermione's plate. "Use the afternoon to read it. I'll speak with Grandma. Perhaps she's willing to give you the first lessons in Occlumency. You know about Mum's part in the fight, a knowledge that could endanger her."

"We haven't told anyone about the fight aside from Bill Weasley. And nobody knows about her," Harry stated, causing only a glare from Daphne.

"And this is meant to appease me? Because you're so well educated at hiding and controlling your emotions, you Gryffindor?" His temper flaring Harry started to response in anger, only to stop as he noticed the mocking smile on Daphne's lips. _Point proven_. He growled angrily, his mood not really improving as he noticed Hermione's snigger.

Daphne pointed at the book: "Read, learn, train. You'll not leave the Manor without learning to protect such knowledge … or being obliviated if you would like that more."

The discrepancy of this determination to her former breakdown was quite surprising. Most of it seemed to be an act, Harry pondered, but still …

"I'll do what I consider the best and not what some Snake …" Harry stopped, his eyes widening as he realized his lapse. He had wanted to prove her that he didn't share Ron's prejudices and now he behaved the same. Daphne's eyes intensified the death-glare. Harry instantly regretted his words, thought about words to apologize.

"You could try with a bit of politeness, Daphne," her mother scolded her. "You could try with asking and explaining instead of ordering and threatening." She at least apparently didn't take his words personally but saw them as born from an angry moment, Harry realized.

Without any hint of remorse Daphne answered: "You decided to care for him irrespective of my opinion. And I decided to care for you. Basta! Harry and Hermione have to learn at least the basics of Occlumency. It's not as if I would demand something terrible or senseless. And certainly they can do this for you after what you risked that night." Seeing the pouting on her mother's face she groaned deeply and frustrated "parents" and turned around, addressing Harry with her most sugary and false tone of voice:

"Please, Harry, would you be so kind and allow my Grandma to teach you the basics of Occlumency? It would be useful for you and so nice of you. Please, Harry, please, with sugar sprinkles on top and chocolate sauce to add." Roxanne rolled her eyes and Hermione was struggling very hard not to burst with laughter.

Harry stared at Daphne, his mind and heart battling about how to react. Occlumency would be helpful in the future and Daphne was right about the danger of his knowledge. But had she to be so damned …

"I would love to learn this," Hermione's soft voice broke the uneasy silence and stopped the glaring contest. For a moment Harry looked at his friend, his small smile showing his thankfulness. With Hermione agreeing he could follow her example without being the one who relented in this discussion.

"That settles the case," Daphne smiled and went to her seat, starting instantly with loading her plate with the dishes.

"Hey, and what about me and my opinion?" Harry frowned, making a last try to at least appear grumpy but his face betrayed his urge to laugh about this weird 'proposal'.

Without looking up Daphne responded: "No one is interested in your opinion, Harry. You're a boy. Boys aren't meant to think, but only to look nice, hand out presents and follow our lead."

As Harry looked around he saw similar smirks on the faces of Roxanne and Hermione. "I'm doomed," he groaned. As Hermione sniggered Harry leaned down to feed the silently listening and watching tomcat with a piece of sausage: "We boys must stick together, Balou. We against the Harpies of Horror."

A purring tomcat, a potato thrown at his head, someone sniggering – _outnumbered by the girls, the next days promised to be arduous_.

.

_**A/N**_

_Now at last Harry knows the reason. Daphne fears for her mother's life, simple as that. And don't forget: she's a Slytherin for a reason and survival instinct is one of the main Slytherin attributes. Daphne is not a Gryffindor. From now on their relationship should improve. Next chapter: more reactions from those around._


	10. Chapter 10 Tentative Friendship

_**A/N**_

_**Harry**__: I'm a bit surprised that apparently quite a number of readers regard Harry's abilities to make fun of him, to make jokes about himself, as a sign of weakness instead of maturity. For me it is a sign of inner strength to take yourself not too earnestly and to be willing to listen to your friends. _

.

**Tentative Friendship**

_Pinegrew Manor – 31__st__ of August evening_

"May I speak with you, with both of you?"

It was the last evening before their return to Hogwarts. They had spent the day in Diagon Alley, preparing for their fourth school year and in the evening had settled in to Harry's room for a few hours, a last evening of silence before they had to return to the turmoil of the Gryffindor common room.

Harry and Hermione looked up – Hermione from the Occlumency book she had been reading and Harry from the cloth mouse he had used to occupy Balou. The tomcat used the moment of distraction to catch mouse and hand with his sharp claws. While Harry suppressed a hiss, Hermione smiled at Daphne and invited her to join her on the couch.

The Greengrass girl had been very silent for the last days, more or less since her outburst five days ago. Apparently she was still a bit unhappy and very concerned about Harry's presence but slowly seemed to accept it. At least that was what Hermione hoped.

Her grandmother Agatha had started to teach Hermione and Harry the basics of Occlumency as promised. As expected it had been quite easy for Hermione's very orderly working mind to grasp the concept behind this rare art and she was already working on a finer technique, while Harry was still struggling with the basics.

.

_Four days ago_

"In the beginning you should learn a simple block against intruders and how to calm your mind," Agatha had explained. "The block is like a wall you erect in the open door your mind resembles at the moment. It is a very easy technique to learn but not very effective against stronger or more artful Legilimens. It is also very exhausting if used for a longer time. But it is very fast to use if you're surprised by an attack and even usable if you're unable to calm your mind, if you're wounded or agitated for example.

"Later you should learn how to build a more effective defense. Those can be quite different. It could be a snowy landscape, a carnival or a maze. Perhaps it will be a library for Hermione or a flight on a broom for Harry. Everyone has to find his own … dreamscape, an illusion you allow an intruder to see, hiding your true thoughts. The last step then it will be to learn to falsify memories, but that will have to wait for a long time."

"What is your dreamscape, Agatha?" Hermione asked. As her daughter before Agatha had offered Hermione to call her by her first name and Harry more than once watched them with a smile speaking about History, Sciences or Arithmancy. He only had to listen to their conversation for a few minutes to remember why Agatha had been a Ravenclaw and why Hermione nearly had been sorted in that house too.

"My dreamscape I draw from memories about a voyage I made to Australia. I visited the Great Barrier Reef and in my dreamscape you're able to dive around between corals, look at star fishes and play with all kind of colorful fishes. Roxanne has chosen a scene from her dancing education: it is her prom night and you may watch her dancing endless circles of Viennese waltz."

"And Daphne," Harry asked.

Agatha looked at him, her expression unreadable for some long moments before she answered his question with a smile. "In the beginning she learned a relative simple but a bit boring technique: Standing in front of a canvas, a brush in her hand and repeating to paint the same line of color endlessly. The benefit of this technique is the very low amount energy you have to put in it. But you have to be quite calm to use it. To overcome this fault Daphne started to learn another technique a few weeks ago. You'll see it yourself if you continue your lessons in Hogwarts. I think you'll like it."

"Continue in Hogwarts, with Daphne?" Harry apparently wasn't happy about this announcement.

"Quite naturally," Agatha agreed. "You didn't expect that these few lessons would be more than the start? You'll have to train for the next months at least before you'll be able to use your dreamscape in an acceptable way. And you'll need someone with knowledge in Legilimency. Daphne isn't very good in that art, but at least she knows the basics of it. I think especially in the beginning it would be better to train with her than with one of the teachers, don't you agree?"

.

Harry had tried his best to offer Daphne his hand in friendship, to be kind to her, caring about her family and to explain. But he was unable to judge his success as the girl had stayed silent for the most part. She had been sitting there, watching, listening, and staring with her smoke grey eyes. Even as he delivered the message from Fred the only response he got had been a very small nod:

"_Fred bade me to speak with you. He wanted me to tell you that he didn't agree with what Ron and Ginny did to you last year. Fred likes you. Not in a romantic way but still he does. He likes your humor and how you behaved after that thing with Montague. Fred doesn't share Ron's opinion about Slytherins. You know: There is this Gryffindor girl. Fred likes her very much and I hope she'll be his girlfriend next year. She had been the main reason that he hadn't been interested in you last year. But I'm sure he would like to have you as a kind of friend. I really think you made an impression on him. Some Weasleys have difficulties to forget the past, but not all of them. Especially the twins are able to see you – Daphne – and not simply another Slytherin." _

The next day she had at least stopped glaring at him – quite contrary to her sister Astoria. While Cyrus, as far as they knew, made an extended visit to his parents, Astoria had stayed in the house and prepared for the next year. She hadn't responded to their greetings, hadn't said a word at the common dinner and left to her rooms immediately afterwards. At least this time she didn't insult Harry and Hermione.

.

_Presence_

"I …" Daphne stayed near the entrance, blushing, her hands clenching nervously and her eyes directed to the ground. Startled she looked up as Harry – who had left his place on the bed – gently grabbed her hands and slowly dragged her to the couch to push her down near Hermione before he took a seat on a chair.

"I …" The girl still struggled, looking back and forth between Harry and Hermione perhaps hoping for a kind of inspiration how to start, her nervousness only increasing by the second. Again Harry grabbed her hands and pressed them together, holding them without much force. He knew this look. He had behaved like this more than once himself and seen it on the faces of his stubborn friends.

"It is okay, Daphne, I'm bad at these things too … apologizing and stuff."

Surprised, gaping, Daphne stared at him with wide eyes, not noticing Hermione's proud expression as she watched her best friend. The long discussions with Agatha had helped Harry apparently, not only to grow up but also to understand the perilous situation of Roxanne and her daughters. They really needed this: An open conversation to understand, to find an end. But needing something and doing it …

It obviously was quite difficult for the proud girl to apologize, to accept that she had been wrong. The situation reminded Hermione of all those moments she had waited for a word from Ron, for a simply excuse after another row. But, hopefully, Daphne would be able to do what Ron had never done.

"It was wrong to slap Hermione. I'm really sorry I did that. You know: I have always respected you. Although you're a Muggleborn you have been our top student since the beginning, knocking all of us purebloods down a peg despite your disadvantage."

Harry frowned at that. He really had expected an apology and not this kind of hidden insult. But Hermione stayed silent, staring intensely at Daphne and he followed her lead – again. He really wanted this to improve but slowly his nerves were getting dangerously thin.

"This isn't meant as an insult, Hermione. Please let me explain. Children of pureblood family learn about magic immediately after they show signs of their talent. Since my fifth birthday I had education in simple spells. With eight I got my own – very small I have to admit – library in addition to the family one and with ten my own little potion lab. In the summer break, while you have to learn on your own, I have the possibility to speak with my mother or my Grandma. You see: It is quite an advantage to be a pureblood, not because of the blood status but simply in regard of social and cultural benefits."

Harry relaxed again and slightly pressed Daphne's hands to show his understanding while Hermione nodded with a smile. How often had she hoped to have someone to speak about her time at Hogwarts? Her parents had been very supporting the whole time but it was simply too foreign for them, too far-fetched to really understand.

"But you've always been the best – in intellect, in your eagerness to learn. And at least in my eyes it wasn't because of an outer force, not because someone urged you to learn, but because you wanted to learn. Am I correct?" Hermione nodded again and Daphne continued with a very soft voice.

"But in the last three years I've seen another side of you, too. Every time something happened around Harry you have been there too. You stood at his side, helped him with your knowledge, I'm certain, defended him against Malfoy and his cronies. I saw the effect of your punch on his nose. That evening Tracey and I toasted to you." Hermione blushed as she thought about that moment of her losing her countenance and Harry grinned broadly, storing silently the information about Tracey.

"In the second year I heard this story about the basilisk and how you used a mirror. To figure it out was impressive, very Ravenclaw-ish. And to test your knowledge this way was incredible brave and not brave in that dumb Gryffindor-ish way."

Daphne blushed a bit. "Sorry, old habits die hard, but what I mean: I don't think that it is really brave to enter a dangerous situation if you don't really understand the danger. But you knew what you had to expect and nonetheless you did it. I could never be this way. I would try to find a more Slytherin way, a circumvention that wouldn't put me in such a danger."

Daphne sighed in frustration. "I'm babbling, I fear. I don't want to sound like a Hermione-fan girl now and certainly I don't want to imitate you in that aspect, this loyalty-bravery-thing. But I'm able to respect it and as you yelled at me five days ago – a bit insultingly I have to add – you were only defending Harry. And that is something I should have expected from you; that I should have accepted. It certainly didn't deserve that I react in such a violent way."

"Harry is my friend, Daphne, my best friend. In a way he is even like a brother to me and I'm sure he thinks about me the same way." Hermione looked his way and Harry silently nodded. "I'll stay at his side whatever happens. As you protect your family so do I; Harry belongs to my family. And I reacted so angry because I know how difficult it is for him to accept help if it puts the helper in danger. He would never risk my life willingly and he won't do it with your mother."

"You," Harry started very solemnly, "expected us to hate Slytherins. And we assumed that you hate Gryffindors. I fear we all had been a bit right and a bit wrong about that. The hate between the Houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor is very old and not completely unfounded. Every year someone belonging to either house does something to deepen the gap and the teachers aren't really helping in the matter. If we go public with our friendship, there will be students of all houses trying to prove us right about the hate, prove that there can't be anything else between Slytherins and Gryffindors.

"Daphne, I don't know if we ever will be real friends. Perhaps we'll figure out that we dislike each other, that we can't stand each other. But the reason should be a clash of characters and not of houses. I would like to give this a try. And even should we decide later not to be friends I would like to share trust with you. I like your mother and grandmother very much. I would appreciate if you'd allow me to spend time with them."

Daphne had been listening very quietly, using the time to recover from her emotional speech before. Now she looked up again, a small mischievous gleam in her eyes. In her opinion this conversation had stayed very seriously all too long now. "Hermione spending time with my Grandma, this I could support. But you? I don't know. You would have to spend some time in the library first. We don't want to see Grandma losing her intellect because someone is only able to speak about Quidditch."

Harry smirked shortly before he leaned back as if in deep thought. "Reading in the library you say. That would be a new experience at least. Naturally I would need someone showing me the way. Until now I thought the library to be one of those mysterious places all speak about but nobody ever saw."

Daphne sighed very deeply and pathetic: "If you're able to stand the unknown dangers of a library, then I could endure the hardship of showing you the way."

"And what about my opinion in this matter," Hermione asked with a mocking grin?

"You're a girl," Harry stated in his best Daphne-imitation. "Nobody wants to hear your opinion. Girls are meant to be cute, accept our gifts and follow …"

Agatha left her place behind the door as a cry of pain permeated the air after the sounds of two shoes hitting two shins. A soft smile played around her lips. Daphne had needed hours of talking beforehand but it had been worth it. Now they had to wait and see if this tentative friendship would survive the reality of Hogwarts.

.

_**A/N**_

_The part about the Occlumency training isn't very detailed but I assume you've read more than once about the lessons Harry got from Snape. But I assure you: while Agatha is not nearly the Occlumens/Legilimens Snape is meant to be, she is – after teaching her daughter and two granddaughters – far more experienced in doing a good job at teaching without brain-burning._

_**Daphne**__'s new Occlumency dreamscape: Any idea what it could be? Are you able to guess it?_


	11. Chapter 11 Regrets and train riding (1)

_**A/N**_

_**About the marriage contract**__: I don't want to reveal too much, __**vampireex**__, but there will be more about marriage contracts in the next chapters. I only wanted to avoid the typical "there is this contract and you have to marry her now" story. Please be patient._

.

**Regrets and train riding (Part 1)**

_Hogwarts – 1__st__ of September early afternoon_

Severus Snape followed his colleague, sometimes friend and sometimes foe, Minerva McGonagall through the corridors of Hogwarts in silence. Normally they would use the time to insult each other, their houses and favorite students, improving the impression of a deep cat-and-dog-hate between them. But the students were still hours away and nobody around to enjoy their usual small show, so they stayed quiet. A smirk played around Snape's lips as he listened to the barely suppressed moaning and groaning of the older professor that had started only seconds after leaving the office of Headmaster Dumbledore.

Neither the conversation with Dumbledore nor Minerva's reaction had been much of a surprise to him. Lucius Malfoy, blood purist, one of the richest man of the Wizarding and an outspoken political foe of Headmaster Dumbledore, had already told Snape about the 'Potter news'. Lucius, one of the few persons Snape regarded a friend, hadn't been amused in the slightest about the idea of Harry 'the-boy-who-lived' Potter being adopted into an old and respected pureblood family. In this regard at least he whole-heartedly shared the Headmaster's opinion.

Snape didn't agree with Lucius' disgust about the matter. Yes, he despised the Potter boy too. He was James' son and the epitome of a Gryffindor. But to have him under the influence of a pureblood family could be a very interesting development and even more to free him from Dumbledore's influence. While the Pinegrews had never shared the typical prejudices of other families about Muggles and Muggleborn, they also had no love for Dumbledore. According to rumors it had been Dumbledore's sovereignty that caused Lady Agatha Pinegrew fifteen years ago to convince her family not to join the Order of the Phoenix in the war against Voldemort and instead stay neutral.

Snape would really love to see Dumbledore raging about losing his newest toy. Since Harry entered the school and partially even since he had lost his parents, Dumbledore had been a dominating factor in Harry Potter's life. Dumbledore had been Snape's puppet master far too long, long enough that the potions' master could enjoy even Harry Potter's freedom from the Headmaster's influence.

The two professors reached Minerva's office and with a small nod Snape accepted Minerva's invitation. Taking a seat on the wooden chair near the book shelf, the place he usually had used in the last ten years, he watched Minerva as she prepared their tea. Within minutes the smell of herbs permeated the room and Snape accepted his mug of tea with a polite nod. But instead of drinking he put the mug down on the table, drew a small silver flask from his coat and started to pour an amber-colored liquid into both mugs.

"I had the impression you could use a little whiskey into your tea," Snape answered the unspoken question.

Staring at the mug for a full minute like she would wonder whether she could trust Snape not to poison her Minerva at last grabbed it and downed the content in a few long gulps. Refilling her mug she held it out to him to add some whiskey again. Without a word Snape followed her command, hesitating shortly as she asked:

"So tell me, Severus, what do you know about the Greengrass family?"

To delay his answer Snape elaborately closed the flask again and stored it away and used the time to think about the question and his possible answers.

"Cyrus Greengrass is a close friend of Lucius. To be more exactly he is a supporter and lackey like Crabbe and Goyle, not an equal ally like Nott. He has never been a Deatheater but supported the cause financially and voted according to Lucius' demands all the time. He seems to share the usual opinions about Muggles and Muggleborn, but is neither brave nor ambitious enough to play a larger role. His younger daughter Astoria is engaged to Draco Malfoy already. They plan to marry after Astoria finished school."

"And the mother, Roxanne Greengrass, what do you know about her?" Minerva had known Roxanne for quite a long time but in the last years there hadn't been much of a contact. Would she be the same now or had she been changed through the influence of her husband?

"She seldom makes an appearance in the society. Cyrus is the one to openly show his face. But according to Narcissa it is more of an agreement between them. He is allowed to play Head of the House and she is allowed to do as she wishes most of the time. It is not like the Malfoy marriage. Obviously she inherited the willpower of her mother. About her political opinion I have no idea. She avoids speaking about it but I assume that she shares her mother's sentiments. At any rate she loves her children dearly and I would assume that Roxanne – like Narcissa – would do anything to protect them."

"Roxanne and Narcissa … are they close friends?"

"They are. I would even go so far to say that Roxanne is Narcissa's closest – and sanest – friend. While Narcissa is forced to spend time with other pureblood ladies like the Parkinson bitch or the cows of Crabbe and Goyle, she seems to really like Roxanne. But the engagement of Astoria and Draco is a concoction of Lucius and Cyrus. I assume that Lucius hopes to get access not only to the Greengrass and Pinegrew wealth but also to their voting power. An error in my opinion as the true power lies with Agatha Pinegrew and I don't expect her to part with it for a long time."

"I heard a rumor about former plans to engage Draco not to Astoria but to Daphne."

Snape snickered and nodded, his eyes showing shortly a surprising amount of respect. "Yes, Cyrus wanted to marry Daphne to Draco, that's right. But there is no love between the kids and Daphne …"

Snape hesitated for some moments, his thoughts lost in memories. "Daphne wasn't amused, not a jot. According to Narcissa the Greengrass girl told her parents quite vividly and pictorially that she would never marry my godson. She even went so far to threat … no, to announce … to kill Draco should they try to enforce that engagement. Obviously Cyrus took her seriously enough to change his plans."

"It would seem that not only Roxanne inherited Agatha's willpower and own mind," Minerva smiled. "But the question remains: Which influence would this adoption have? Would it be good or bad to have Harry in the Pinegrew-Greengrass house?" The Gryffindor House Mistress sighed deeply. "Albus was quite adamant about us helping him to drive a wedge between Daphne and Harry. His arguments about the possible dangers of such an adoption are valid. But still …"

Minerva remembered a time way back when the Pinegrews had been quite close to her. In the forty years she had been teacher at Hogwarts five female members of that old and respected family had been her students. Each Pinegrew had shown a deep talent for Transfiguration. To finish school with a NEWT in this branch of magic had been kind of a family tradition. Three of them mastered the art of Animagus under Minerva's tutelage. Agatha had even been Minerva's assistant teacher for a short time and reached the academic degree of a 'Master of Transfiguration'.

This all had ended as Dumbledore – after Roxanne's marriage to Cyrus Greengrass – expressed his reservations about the family's trustworthiness. The Headmaster assumed the Pinegrews now to be part of the enemy's camp, Deatheaters-to-be and not trustworthy to have around. He more or less ordered Minerva to cut her ties to the family and end the training of Roxanne. Heavy-heartedly she had followed the order. Months later she learned that Roxanne finished her Animagus training with her mother's help; the first Pinegrew woman doing this outwards of Hogwarts after more than three decades of Minerva's tutelage.

And now her two daughters were at Hogwarts. In two years Daphne would start her NEWT training and while she hadn't the talent of her grandmother – according to Filius Flitwick she seemed to be much better at Charms – Minerva had no doubts that Daphne would be able to finish her transfiguration NEWT in an acceptable manner, perhaps even with her own Animagus form.

After the war Cyrus had been on trial as many others too. But no member of the family had been a Deatheater and his participation had been meager enough to allow him to live on without repercussions. More than once in the past decade Minerva had thought about her former friends, thought about how their relation would be today if she hadn't followed Dumbledore's command so blindly. She had no wish to reenact the error.

"I'm not sure about our ability to influence Potter either way," Snape interrupted Minerva's string of memories. "Both have quite a temper and their own mind. And Potter isn't the type to really listen to logical arguments."

"At least not to your arguments," Minerva agreed with an exhausted smile. "But you're right. It would be quite difficult to convince them. And I'm not sure that I really want this. I don't like the idea of Cyrus Greengrass or – Merlin help – Lucius Malfoy to be near Harry Potter. But I've spoken with Mrs. Figg and … we made a grave error to send him into that house, Severus, a grave error indeed. And we should have secured afterwards that he has a loving family. That we more or less forgot him for ten years, allowed those vile persons to have reign over his life, is something I'll regret for the rest of my life."

To her surprise Snape didn't react in his usual way. Minerva knew how much Snape hated the boy and the reasons for this feeling. Normally Snape would have said something to ridicule the Potter boy. But perhaps his own childhood experiences allowed him to understand better than anyone else how difficult life must have been in the Dursley house. He stayed silent and only nodded as Minerva finished:

"I delay my decision until I've spoken with both children and Roxanne Greengrass if possible."

.

_Hogwarts train – the same time_

"Let's go, Millie!" Pansy's voice was shrill as usual when the girl's temper flared.

With no small amount of disgust Daphne watched her as she left the compartment, before she addressed the hulky girl: "You don't have to obey her, Millie. You're better than that, you deserve more." Daphne had always liked the girl despite her not very appealing appearance. Such a large body and such a small self-confidence – she was the typical follower and it hadn't been a surprise that Pansy had adopted Millicent Bulstrode as her personal 'girl power' and bodyguard right from the start three years ago. More than once Daphne had tried to convince the girl to find her own way, that there were more adorable traits about her than her strength. But until now she hadn't had success and this time it would be the same again. With an unsure shrug Millicent followed her 'boss' and closed the door behind her.

Daphne groaned inwardly as she turned around. With Pansy and Millicent gone Tracey would now instantly start to harass her about her new 'brother'. To avoid this conversation as long as possible she had even tried to be polite to Pansy, irrespective of her dislike towards the girl – a dislike that Pansy shared because of Astoria. Until the engagement of Astoria to Draco her fellow Slytherin apparently had somehow dreamed about her future as Mrs. Draco Malfoy. Thinking back there had never been a hint of Draco sharing this dream but this did nothing to quench Pansy's ire about Astoria's 'meddling with her luck'. To hate Daphne too was only the next logical step, at least for Pansy.

"Tell." Daphne tried to overhear despite Tracey nearly jumping up and down on her seat. Tracey Davis was her best friend since they met on the train ride to Hogwarts three years ago. More precisely she was her only girl-friend and the only Slytherin she liked to spend time with apart from Tracey's boyfriend Blaise Zabini. The dark-skinned boy was leaning against the window and smiling at his girlfriend. At least he seemed not as interested in Daphne's news but quite content to let his eyes rove about Tracey's curves. He had started to behave like a horny teenager at the end of the last year and obviously the summer break had only intensified his 'urgings'.

Not willing to wait a second longer Tracey pushed the book in Daphne's hands aside. "Tell."

Daphne tried hard to send her renowned death-glare in Tracey's direction but the girl's joy and eagerness to hear about Potter was so obvious that Daphne felt her ire melt away. "You're impossible, Tracey Davis, I hope you know that."

"Yes, tell me something new," Tracey waved. "Now … how is Harry? Is he a good kisser?"

"What?" Totally flabbergasted Daphne stared at Tracey. "How do you … what do you … Tracey Davis, I have no idea what you're talking about. Harry is not my boyfriend, we don't even like each other very much and …"

Tracey grimaced and interrupted Daphne with a wave of her hand. "Yeah, yeah, anything that let you sleep at night. I hoped with such a cute boy around you would come to your senses at last. It is about time that you catch your own boyfriend and get a good snogging."

Blaise sniggered and pulled Tracey into his arms. "Since she heard about Potter at Pinegrew Manor she has been like this – imagining both of you snogging and groping. Not that I would complain. With her fantasy running rampant like that she has been much more agreeable to …"

"Lalala," Daphne stopped him, her hands pressed against her ears. "I really don't want to hear this – way too much information." Her frown deepening as she noticed the broad smiles on her friends' faces she glared at Tracey: "And you stop these … these fantasies right this instant. Do you understand? Perhaps Harry will be my adoptive brother one day, but certainly not more. And he is not cute."

"The lady doth protest too much," Blaise whispered into Tracey's ear, but low enough to allow Daphne to ignore the comment.

.

Harry wasn't as eager as usual in his search of his friends. He had parted from Roxanne, Agatha, Astoria and Daphne on platform 9 ¾, his new trunk levitating behind him, the cages of Hedwig and Balou in his hands. Hermione followed him, her trunk levitating too while her hands never let go of her new book bag. It had been a parting gift of Agatha Pinegrew: a book bag that allowed several hundreds of books to be stored away without the weight ever increasing and allowing the owner to pull the correct book he searched for. For the time being the book bag was mostly empty despite the score of books she had been given too, but Harry was sure about Hermione's ability to correct this 'fault' on short notice.

As they reached the compartment of their friends the open joy of Neville and Ginny caused Harry to feel a bit guilty about his secret wish to stay with Daphne and to become acquainted with her friends. Daphne had been quite sure that Tracey Davis and Blaise Zabini would be relaxed about the idea of 'Harry Potter-Pinegrew'. The blonde girl at Ginny's side – Luna Lovegood if he remembered her name correctly – looked dreamily in his direction and nodded slightly. The smile on Ron's face seemed to be a bit forced. Apparently the Weasley boy hadn't been able to overcome his qualms about Harry's stay at Pinegrew Manor. Harry hoped that he would be able to soothe the waves in the weeks to come.

"And this is certainly Babou, yes?" Ginny asked as she fetched the cage from Harry's grasp. She started to woo the tomcat with silly comments and clumsy tries to fondle him, ignoring all the while Hermione's comment about 'Balou' being the correct name. Was a tomcat able to frown, Harry wondered? Balou stared at the foreign red-head and apparently more endured than relished the attention. Not for the first time Harry wished that he hadn't been this forward in asking Ginny to handle the tomcat at Hogwarts, but at least Hermione would be there too and Balou would have Crookshanks for company. Both tomcats weren't the best friends – partly because of the orange fur ball's envy – but got along well enough. And then there had been Daphne's argument …

.

_This morning_

With a happy smile Daphne carried Balou into Harry's room and gently placed him into his cage. In the beginning he had been a bit reluctant, obviously sensing that something would happen today. But the prospect of a piece of sausage had prompted him to leave his hideout and allowed Daphne to lift him up.

"Have you thought about Hogwarts already? Where will he be living? You have already your owl."

Harry avoided her eyes, concentrating on Balou. Had she hoped that he would ask her? Had she hoped to have her own pet at Hogwarts this time? She had never offered but somehow he sensed that she would have been happy about such a request. But it was too late now, he had already asked Ginny and he didn't want to disappoint Ron's sister.

"He'll stay in the Gryffindor tower. I already asked Ginny Weasley and she agreed to look out for him."

"Oh," for a moment disappointment showed on her face, quickly removed and replaced with a forced smile. She fondled the tomcat's ears. "You're going to be happy there, Balou. You'll have Crookshanks to play with. And perhaps the Weasel bought a new rat. Would you like to hunt a rat, dear?" Daphne suppressed the evil grin that shortly showed on her face before she addressed Harry again: "It will be better this way – securer. I thought about caring for him myself but there could be danger in the Slytherin dungeon. It needs only a single Slytherin with enough hate towards you …"

The girl leaned forward and pressed a kiss onto Balou's head, something the tomcat obviously despised, before she rumpled his fur and walked away.

.

_Present_

The next hour dragged on with Harry feeling irritated by the constant babbling of the Weasleys. After this summer especially Ron's ramblings about Quidditch and the very small number of other themes that hold any interest to him was arduous to endure. How much he would have liked to listen to a Hermione-Agatha-conversation about some topic he only partially understood.

For a while he was able to drag Neville into a discussion about Mediterranean herbs and their effects – the Longbottoms had spent four weeks of the summer on Sicilia and Crete – and enjoyed to listen to a few of Luna's weird remarks about some creatures even Hermione never heard about.

But Ron obviously felt a bit left out. He had never been good at leaning back and allowing others their time in the spotlight. Hermione noticed how his face showed the first signs of a rising temper. She struggled for words to soothe him, knowing that anything she said could easily worsen the situation as the red-head had never been good at listening to her reasoning. Instead they both were somehow quite adept at grinding on each other's nerves, leading any reasonable discussion into a full-blown war every time.

Before she had any idea how to prevent Ron's explosion, he started to insult Luna's father. "I never understood why your father calls this" he pointed towards Luna's exemplar of the Quibbler "a newspaper, Looney. It is more like a fairy tale book, isn't it? Perhaps he should rename it to _Ramblings of a Madman_ and sell it together with a bottle of booze."

While Luna had certainly been the target of more than one offending remark in the past and more or less been used to her nickname 'Looney', Ron's words had obviously come as a bad surprise. Harry didn't understand why Ron was so angry right now because he hadn't watched him like Hermione did the minutes before. Luna seemed to be near crying and averted her eyes. She leaned against the window and tried hard to suppress her sobbing.

Neville instantly went to Luna, slightly kicking Ron on his way, and kneeled in front of the Ravenclaw girl. Gently he grabbed her hands and whispered: "Don't listen, he's a tosser."

"What the heck!" Harry shouted in Ron's direction.

"You're an asshole, Ron," Hermione added with a shrill voice, forgetting her manners for a moment of flaring anger.

Ginny watched the exchange for some moments before she took a seat beside Luna and embraced the small girl, rubbed her arm soothingly and furthermore observed the furious onslaught. Only Neville detected that Ginny was far more interested in Harry's reaction than in Luna's calming, but right now Luna was more of an interest to him.

"Yeah, as if you would believe this nonsense," Ron argued back, leaning against the seat, his arms crossed in front of his chest. He nodded in Hermione's direction: "Ask her. Ask Hermione if she believes a single story of this Quibbler crap. Don't do high and mighty now."

The addressed girl blushed a shade. In a way Ron was right. In her eyes the Quibbler wasn't a believable newspaper and not worth the time to read it. And Luna and her stories had more than once prompted her to roll her eyes. But this amount of insulting … she couldn't stand it, especially as it was targeted against Luna's father too and the Ravenclaw adored her slightly weird father. The pleading look of Neville – more than the open anger of Harry – was enough to be polite now.

"Luna's stories are … peculiar, I have to admit," she started.

"See?" Ron grinned. "I told you …"

"Shut up," Hermione yelled at him, surprising all with her outburst. "I said peculiar, not stupid or insane. Yes, I never read something about Nargles or Bibbering Humminger in a book …"

"Blibbering Humdinger," a sniffling Luna corrected.

"Blibbering Humdinger, thank you, Luna," Hermione nodded in the blonde girl's direction and made an effort to pronounce her name correctly. "But that doesn't mean that those creatures don't exist. What do you think had been the opinion of my parents about the existence of magic ten years ago?"

She waited a minute to allow Ron a response but he only glared and pouted at her. With a sigh but more controlled Hermione continued: "Perhaps they really don't exist. To be honest I'm pretty sure that most of these creatures don't exist, but some of them may be out there. Perhaps Luna will be able to find some of them as she hopes to accomplish later. Trying to find some unknown animal is certainly not a battier purpose in life than to dream about spending the next decade playing Quidditch."

Even Harry, who certainly had at least thought about becoming a professional Quidditch player too, seemed to agree and smiled in her direction. For a moment Hermione blushed deeper as she noticed the look of adoration Neville send her way and even Luna seemed somewhat calmer. Naturally it came to Ron to spoil the moment.

"Nonsense," he spat in Hermione's direction. "This is all stupid, stupid nonsense."

"How eloquent," Harry whispered, causing Hermione to smile.

"You can say what you want," Ron continued while he left his place and stepped forward, towering over Hermione who instinctively shrank back. "I'm right and you're wrong. Only because you're a know-it-all with books instead of friends …"

Harry started to stand up too, but was beaten by Neville's reaction. Grabbing one of Luna's shoes that were lying on the floor since she had taken them off an hour ago he threw it at Ron, hitting his head. It was hardly a strong throw. It certainly didn't cause much pain and Neville was more surprised that he actually had hit his intended target than everyone else in the compartment. But the reaction itself caused everyone to stare at him dumbstruck. His face as red as Ron's hair Neville tried to sound more self-confident than he felt this moment. "Enough, Ron, it is really enough. First you insulted Luna and now 'Mione." He hesitated for a second as he realized that he had used her nickname. "It is time to go."

"Pardon?" Ron blinked several times, obviously trying hard to understand what just happened.

"Go, Ron," Harry seconded Neville's words. "Find yourself another compartment and come back after cooling down a bit."

Ron tapped his forehead at Neville and Harry and glared at his sister, hoping for support. But Ginny, after a short glance at Harry, only shrugged helplessly. Neville, still quite red and fuming, reached for the door and opened it. "Go," he ordered, his voice now much stronger than before. Uttering some curses that would have got him some additional house chores back at home Ron grabbed his bag and left the compartment. With a deep sigh Neville closed the door afterwards and took a seat, trying to avoid the eyes of Luna and especially Hermione.

"I knew you had it in you," Harry smiled at his friend.

"This was brilliant, Neville," Hermione praised with a very emotional voice.

"But much braver is the one who is willing to stand up against his friends out of concern about their welfare." Luna's dreamy voice added and they needed some seconds to realize that these had been the words Headmaster Dumbledore had spoken years ago, directed towards a younger Neville.

_But how could she know these words?_ Hermione wondered. That had been months before Luna entered Hogwarts.

"The Headmaster's closing speech is published in the Quibbler every year," Luna answered Hermione's unspoken question.

_Perhaps I should read the Quibbler from time to time_, Hermione wondered. But aloud she said: "And now tell us, Luna, what has been the last lead article of the Quibbler?"

.

_Hogwarts – Headmaster Office_

It had been an error to ask them, this he knew now. They wouldn't help him to drive Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass apart. They simply didn't understand the stringent necessity of this. Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, had to be under his control and purely his control. Lupin had seen reason ten years ago, realized that a werewolf wasn't an appropriate warden for a child. And Sirius had been to Azkaban until last year. In the moment he was on the run and hardly in the situation to press the matter of his status as Harry's godfather.

This left the problem of Roxanne Pinegrew-Greengrass. He needed help – someone trustworthy, someone who would be able to gain Harry's trust. Headmaster Dumbledore nodded slightly. _He_ would help. _He_ had always been his most trustworthy ally in the past. Together they would find a solution.


	12. Chapter 12 Regrets and train riding (2)

_**A/N**_

_**Juliano2991**__: No need to apologize. I know that the point of Harry's character will be the most important one regarding 'like/hate this story'. One heavy flaw I have to admit: in my story Harry is way too cool-headed and lacks the typical temper. I'll try to correct that error in the future._

_About the fight/battle prowess: in my opinion Harry did well considering his age. At the start of book four he simply doesn't know many spells (remember all those lessons with Hermione that year) and these two Deatheaters weren't low-ranks. Hermione only survived thanks to Bill's amulet._

.

.

**Regret and train riding (Part 2)**

_Hogwarts Express – 1__st__ of September_

.

"This Mrs. Phagg you mentioned …" Hermione stared thoughtfully at Harry.

"Figg, Arabella Figg is her name," Harry corrected her. "What about her?"

"You said that she worked for Headmaster Dumbledore?"

"She said so. But I don't know for how long. I've known her only," Harry tried to remember. How long had the cat lady been living there? "Mmm, I don't really remember. A few years she had been with her cats in that shabby house at least."

"Do you think that she knew about your … way to live?" Neville asked. He sensed Harry's uneasiness to speak about that part of his life, an uneasiness that had prompted the boy-who-lived to avoid certain discussions since he entered the Gryffindor tower three years ago. That Neville, shy Neville, participated in a discussion like this was a surprise in itself. Perhaps the struggle with Ron an hour before had opened him a bit more than usual.

"That's the question I was thinking about too," Hermione shortly pressed Neville's hand thankfully, totally ignorant of the boy's blushing. Harry shortly grinned in Neville's direction, but hastily turned towards Hermione again as his friend looked around in confusion, apparently wondering what had caused Harry's reaction.

"I'm not sure. She claimed that she didn't know; that she was sorry about it. Inherently she should have realized that something had been amiss, that my life wasn't … as hoped by the Headmaster. But on the other hand …" Harry sighed. He grimaced and thrummed on the armrest with his fingers: "I hadn't the impression that Mrs. Figg is a very good liar and she had always been nice to me, weird but nice, especially after that summer with Balou's accident."

The tomcat, rolled-up in Ginny's lap, yawned shortly but otherwise seemed to be quite disinterested in the story.

"And in a way she always reminded me of Mr. Filch. Naturally not in the 'I'll-flay-you-alive' way, but she's a Squib too, more than a bit odd and not too bright. And she's more interested in cats than in humans."

"It sounds like a bad idea to assign such a person the job to take care of your wellbeing," Neville commented, prompting nods from Ginny and Hermione. Luna appeared to listen without understanding, her dreamy eyes more resting on Neville than anything else.

"Perhaps the Headmaster had nobody else for the job," Hermione assumed.

Harry agreed: "It had certainly not been a very well-paid or interesting job so far. Perhaps he simply wanted to … I don't know … sustain her; give her a task to feel needed. I've never seen her family around. Even with her cats flooding the house it had certainly been not the most fulfilled life to her."

"But the Headmaster had never visited you in all those years," Hermione asked. "And Professor McGonagall neither?"

"Not as far as I knew. And at least Uncle Vernon certainly would have said something disgusting about such a visit."

"This all makes no sense, I'm sorry," Hermione groaned.

"I understand that he send you to your Aunt to protect you," Neville started hesitantly. "Perhaps he thought you would be safer in the Muggle world. Certainly some Deatheaters would have loved to kill you after 'His' death and pureblood mages most often have difficulties to find their way in the Muggle part of the world."

"Most of them, yes," Hermione agreed. "Even Mr. Weasley has his problems and he is really interested in Muggle technology."

"But," Neville continued, "to simply drop you there and forget you for a full ten years …"

"Something is amiss," Harry consented, his face now a bit red with anger. Since his first conversation with Mrs. Figg this summer he had tried to understand, tried to explain to himself how all of this had happened and why Dumbledore had acted this way. But admittedly he wasn't convinced by his own arguments and slowly lost his patience.

"Some pieces of the puzzle I don't know. Headmaster Dumbledore had been quite adamant about sending me back to that house every summer at least for a few weeks. And I'm sure that he would have denied my visit to Pinegrew Manor without that contract. On my birthday he had been there and Agatha more or less kicked him out – politely, but still."

"That's only because of the dangers. They're Deatheaters," Ginny intervened. These words had been her first input to the discussion and the faces around her showed quite obviously how lonely she was with her opinion.

"Daphne isn't a Deatheater," Luna said with a small frown. "She's quite nice."

Hermione blinked in confusion. _Luna knew Daphne? How?_

"Roxanne and Agatha aren't Deatheaters either. Hell, they don't even agree with all this pureblood nonsense. Their only 'fault' – if you want to call it this way – is their dislike towards the Headmaster," Harry's face reddened even more. While he was still not fully convinced regarding the (non-)existence of the Pinegrews' 'Gryffindors-are-evil' prejudices, he was quite unwilling to bear another sentence about their 'dangerous Deatheaterness'.

Ginny noticed his reaction and apparently thought about a way to press the 'Deatheater-matter' or to turn the discussion into another direction to calm him. Her face showed how her mind was racing and she looked around, hoping for other opinions, hoping that someone would end the uneasy silence that followed to Harry's statement.

So – as Harry leaned towards her and fondled the head of the sleepy tomcat – Ginny used the moment and the sight of Harry's wrist. "By the way: What's that? It looks nice. I haven't noticed it on you before. Is it new?"

Harry looked down at the wrist where Ginny's hand was pointing. His sleeve had ruck up and his new leather bracelet had become visible to all. It was nearly two inches broad, crafted from a dark red dragon hide and three rows of silvery ornaments were running around the length. To the untrained eyes these ornaments seemed to be no more than senseless signs but someone like Hermione would be able to realize that they were a string of old runes.

"It is new," Harry responded pensively, "a gift."

.

_This morning at Pinegrew Manor_

As Agatha had asked them, Hermione and Harry had stayed at the breakfast table after finishing their meal. Neither Roxanne nor Daphne had been willing to comment Agatha's wish and Astoria had already left for her room. In silence they had to wait for a while until Lady Pinegrew returned with two jewelry boxes in her hands. Gently she put them down in front of Harry and Hermione.

"After what happened to you both at the Quidditch finals Roxanne and I wanted to offer these bracelets to you." While Hermione only watched Agatha in focused silence, Harry opened his box and saw an ornamented leather bracelet resting on a small cushion of silk.

"They had been crafted for members of this family some years ago. To be exactly that leather bracelet had been meant to be worn by your father, Harry. We ordered it before your father decided to choose another woman to be his wife. Since then it rested in our family vault."

Stunned Harry stared at the bracelet. It had been crafted for his father? In a way it was his heirloom. Tenderly he touched the leather and the silvery ornaments.

"I never wanted my 'dear' Cyrus to wear this. I had hoped that perhaps someday a son of mine would wear it. In a way I was right – I hope," Roxanne smiled at Harry. He reciprocated the smile and gently lifted the bracelet, apparently not listening very closely to Agatha, being too distracted by the object in his hand.

"The ornaments are runes of protection. They won't protect you against a killing curse, but they will dampen the impact of most dangerous curses. They are especially not meant to protect against smaller jinxes as not to give away their special abilities. So a tripping jinx will hit you while a Crucio or Reducto will be lessened," Agatha explained and at least Hermione understood and stored the information away, knowing that she would have to speak with Harry about this at a later time.

In this moment he was simply too occupied to stare at the bracelet. Nearly lovingly he placed the bracelet around his wrist, prompting Daphne to groan deeply.

"Harry," she yelled and threw a piece of bread at his head, hitting with deathly accuracy. "Don't be so … trusting, so Gryffindor-ish. You can't simply …"

Another yell from Daphne, this time even louder and more piercing, stopped Hermione. The girl had started to open her own box and just wanted to touch her own bracelet, this one more girly and crafted from a silvery alloy.

"Stop, stupid … bookworm," Daphne groaned.

"Hey, you can't …" Harry started but was stopped by a hand of Agatha softly placed on his shoulder.

"I really expected more from you. You're in a pureblood household. That box contains a piece of Jewelry meant for a pureblood. And you're a Muggle-born. Think about it."

Harry shook off the hand on his shoulder as he stood up, his face red with anger. "I really thought you would …"

"Aaargh," Daphne yelled again, punching the table plate with her small fists. Her mother and grandmother only smiled in her direction, certainly doing nothing to soothe her. But at least Harry had stopped to speak.

"No, it is not about this pureblood rubbish. I really thought we had sorted it out that I don't believe this crap. But you can't simply ignore that many purebloods believe in it." Daphne left her seat, went at Hermione's side and closed the box with a determined gesture. Taking a seat at her side, she pressed the box into Hermione's hands and locked eyes with her:

"Hermione, never … never … touch a piece of pureblood jewelry without examination. Naturally Grandma wouldn't give you something dangerous willingly, but it is a matter of principle. Many Purebloods protect their jewelry with curses. The Black family is especially infamous for their use of the 'Toujours pure' curse regarding their family heirlooms. A touch can curse you; putting such a piece of jewelry on your skin may kill you. Careful examination … understood?" Daphne asked Hermione with a great amount of concern and urgency in her voice.

Hermione nodded slightly, her stance tensed.

"Good," Daphne allowed herself to relax a bit. "I'm sure that Grandma examined the Jewelry." She shortly threw a questioning look in Agatha's direction and her Grandma affirmed. "But I expect you to ask someone else. Perhaps you could ask Professor Flitwick. You could tell him some story about buying this in your holiday and that you wanted to be certain about possible dangers. Then, and only then, you're allowed to wear it. Okay? Really, please don't forget that. Pureblood jewelry is dangerous" Daphne sighed again, a bit exhausted by her outburst.

"I think she understood your concern, Daphne," Roxanne interjected. "The bracelet, Hermione, it was meant to be worn by Astoria. Daphne has the same."

The addressed girl lifted her arm and really there was the same bracelet, only a bit more worn out.

"Cyrus wanted to give Astoria something else and so it was waiting for someone to wear it. I hope it will protect you in the future."

"I thank you very much … Agatha … Roxanne." Hermione smiled towards them gratefully. "I'll wear it … after an examination through Professor Flitwick," she added after some moments to Daphne's joy.

"Daphne, really," Harry shook his head, playfully throwing back the piece of bread at Daphne. "Next time try to be a bit more … you know … polite … patient."

"I'll try," Daphne grinned, "but I can't promise."

.

_Present_

"About something I wondered," Hermione started. Harry had been deep in thoughts about the bracelets for a while and the train was nearing Hogwarts.

"And what's the matter this time?" Harry asked with only a small amount of humor in his voice. The memory of this morning and how he had received his bracelet had been troubling, especially the memory of Daphne's warning about Pureblood curses.

"Last year," Hermione continued, apparently oblivious to Harry's mood, "Sirius accepted a high risk as he tried to lay his hands on Ron and Scabbers. To intrude Hogwarts, to catch the rat and turn him back into a human … why did he do this? I mean: Why did he choose this way?"

A bit confused Harry tried to concentrate more on Hermione's words while the others stayed calm. They knew only the basic story so far.

"Remember: Sirius saw this picture of the Weasleys in the Daily Prophet. He knew that Ron had this rat and he realized that it was Peter Pettigrew. He knew that his only chance to be acquitted would be to unmask Pettigrew. But why did he try in such a dangerous way? He could have simply written a letter. _Dear Headmaster Dumbledore, I know that you have no reason to believe me. But please give it a try. If I'm wrong you'll only use a small amount of your precious time and nothing will happen. But if I'm correct you'll detect the truth about the betrayal twelve years ago_." Expectantly Hermione stared at the slightly blank expression of Harry.

"Hermione means: He could have asked Dumbledore to cast this spell on Scabbers. You know: That spell Professor Lupin used on him," Neville explained, showing again how much he understood. _How often did he knew something_, Harry wondered, _and stayed silent because others were more forthcoming_?

"Exactly," Hermione added. "He could have asked Dumbledore and I see no reason why the Headmaster wouldn't comply to such a wish. He had nothing to lose and as far as we know Sirius – like the rest of the Marauders – had been very dear to him and Minerva."

"Perhaps the idea simply didn't cross his mind," Harry shrugged. "I'll ask him … should I ever meet him again." He tried to sound nonchalant but Hermione sensed that he really hoped to see his Godfather soon, if only to speak with him about the Pinegrews. But Sirius was far away now. Away but secure, she hoped.

.

_Hogwarts – Headmaster Office_

At last his guest had arrived. Contrary to their former arrangement he had bade him to arrive this afternoon to have some peaceful time together before the hordes of students stormed the castle. With a small smile but without the usual twinkle of his eyes Headmaster Dumbledore filled two cups with herbal tea but left the plate with candies on his side of the table. He knew better than to offer them to his guest.

"I assume the voyage went well and you're ready so far," he started the conversation.

"Yes and yes, as can be expected." The tone was bland, but the eyes examined the expression of the Headmaster with the utmost meticulousness. This conversation could very easily change the possibilities to continue with his own plan and he expected some sinister motives of the Headmaster to alter the time of his arrival in the last moment.

"I've spoken with Severus and Minerva about the Potter-boy."

_Ah, right to the matter_, his guest grinned inwardly without showing any reaction. "I assume it didn't go as well as you hoped?"

Dumbledore sighed in disappointment: "No, not in the least. They said something about 'we'll think about it', but it had been clear that they wouldn't be helpful."

"This you should have expected. They allow love and hate to influence their behavior. Even now they don't understand the realities of war. Resources must be used to the utmost benefit; else you'll lose in the long run."

The Headmaster agreed completely: "You've always been able to see the necessities. We don't have to like this … really we shouldn't like this … but we can't always be the Mister-nice-guy. Yes, I would like to see Harry in a happy home. We all would like to allow him his happy childhood …"

His guest didn't share this opinion but he veiled his reaction through a sip of tea.

"… but he is far too valuable. It is of utmost importance that Harry is solely under our control. The Pinegrews have never been supporters of the Order and we can't allow them to hold sway over him and the Potter inheritance."

It was quite obvious that the Headmaster with 'our control' only meant 'my control', but this came to no surprise to his guest. And apparently it also troubled him to potentially loose his access to the Potter fortune, especially the estates that had been used by the order in the last decade. But this conversation about Harry could perhaps be used to promote his own plan in an unexpected way.

"Perhaps it is time to have someone else to influence the boy, to let him see him reason. Not some lovey-dovey house Mistress, I mean."

"Exactly what I thought," Dumbledore smiled. "He needs guidance. Potter has quite some talent but he's more like an uncut diamond."

_Ah, the opportunity_, his guest rejoiced. "I heard about his talents. I'm eager to experience them myself. There had been some interesting reports about his former … adventures, especially that one about the Philosopher's stone."

A tiny reaction of Dumbledore was all he needed to have a confirmation of his suppositions. "Am I correct that this whole affair with the stone was fairly … convenient? I always wondered about a boy – or a trio of students – being able to overcome the security around such a precious and rare item."

Dumbledore allowed himself to smile. It wasn't a surprise that his guest was able to deduce the truth so easily. "It was a test. You certainly assumed as much."

"I thought so. The real stone had never been there, I suppose?"

Dumbledore only continued his smile without answering the questions. Even now he should be allowed his small secrets.

"But your test was flawed, wasn't it?" _It was time to go in for the kill_.

"Why do you think so?"

"Two points … no three actually: At that time he had been in the magical world for less than a year, so it was more a test of his problem solving abilities, not of his magical prowess. Second: He hadn't been alone but worked with two friends. He won't be able to rely on them all the time and in the end he will be alone to fulfill his prophecy. And for the last point: The test was more or less child's play – interesting child's play but child's play nonetheless."

"And do you have a solution to these flaws?" Dumbledore's expression had soured in the last minutes. It wasn't very often that someone dared to criticize his plans and – as he had to admit – do so quite correctly.

His guest leaned back and sighed deeply. "To my regret: no, I don't have an answer." After a sip of tea he continued a little depressed: "Naturally the tournament would be very appropriate to test him. Real dangers, challenging enemies and able contestants – not like that Quirrel-fool. But unfortunately this isn't an option. The Goblet will chose the participants and he's simply too young. Regretfully the Champions aren't chosen for ability alone but the Ministry in its endless wisdom decided this age barrier."

Another tiny sign on the Headmaster's face and his guest had to struggle not to show his satisfaction. _Bait, hook and line_ – the Headmaster was his. As he left the office some minutes later he knew that it was only a question of time before the Headmaster decided to send Harry Potter into the tournament. Probably he would ask him to help, if only to avoid suspicions. But in the end he would reach his goal: Harry Potter, the tournament Champion. His master would be pleased.

That Dumbledore not only allowed but even demanded that he spend time with the Potter-boy was only the icing on the cake.

.

_Hogwarts – 1__st__ of September evening_

The usual bustle dominated the area between train and coaches. Hagrid tried not very successfully to bring order into the chaos and some – certainly not every – Prefects supported him. For a short moment Hermione missed Percy Weasley. Last year, with Percy being Head Boy and his former girlfriend Penelope Clearwater being Head Girl, the Prefects had been much more vigorous in their actions.

From somewhere Ron reappeared again and those voices could only belong to the twins. As Harry looked for them he detected Fred and George following the beautiful Tracey Davis and the dark-skinned Blaise Zabini. Between the twins paced gracefully Daphne Greengrass. She appeared to be quite relaxed and her expression froze only for a split second as her eyes wandered about Ginny and Ron. Not that the youngest Weasleys wouldn't reciprocate in kind. They glared at the girl and their 'traitorous' twin brothers, but were fully ignored by them. Galleons were exchanged for a dubious looking bundle and even Hermione seemed to be happy about the improved relation and refrained from any comment about pranking articles. Fred astonishingly elegant blew a kiss onto Daphne's knuckles and hurried away.

"Hi Harry," she greeted him. "Hermione," she added with a smile, before she turned around and pointed towards her friends: "You know Tracey and Blaise? They are mighty evil Slytherins but almost harmless if sufficiently fed."

One dreaming, two glaring and three smiling pair of eyes accepted the greetings of Tracey and Blaise. The dark-skinned boy even bowed slightly towards Hermione: "Please don't listen to her, kind lady, we're … ouch." Someone had snipped against his ear and now glared at him with narrowed eyes: "Behave," Tracey growled. She addressed Daphne: "See you later. Come on, Blaise, my trunk is waiting for your strong arms."

"He seems to be quite whipped," Hermione grinned.

"As it should be," Daphne agreed.

Slowly they followed the others towards the coaches and searched for places. Ron had vanished again after a last angry growl and while Harry helped Hermione and Ginny to enter one of the coaches with their baggage, he noticed how Neville gave the front of the coach a wide berth. It looked as if he would be avoiding something not visible to Harry. He narrowed his eyes and made two steps in the direction but still there was nothing in sight.

"You're able to see them, aren't you, Neville?" Daphne asked the shy boy with a kind and caring voice.

Neville shot a short glance in her direction but hastily looked down again and went for the coach.

"See what?" Harry asked in confusion.

"The Thestrals, Harry," Hermione explained from her seat. "Have you forgotten what Luna told about them?" Her voice showed some insecurity about the matter but since the Quibbler discussion some hours ago she had tried to trust Luna's opinion more. _Perhaps she should ask Hagrid about Thestrals later._

Luna heard Hermione uttering her name and looked up with a small but a little sad smile. In the meantime Neville had reached and entered the coach and took a seat across from Hermione. He still stared down and seemed to be quite unhappy about the discussion.

"I'm a tad envious of you, Lovey," Daphne explained," that you're able to see them. But on the other hand I'm quite happy that I can't."

"Her name is Luna, Daphne, not Looney," Ginny growled, who apparently had misunderstood the nickname used by the girl.

Daphne frowned in the red-head's direction and Harry sensed her inner struggle about correcting Ginny or ignoring her. "She said Lovey not Looney," he tried to help. Turning around towards the girls he saw Daphne dragging Luna towards the next coach – this one being cramped with Ginny, Hermione, Neville and Harry – and added quietly: "Lovey, I like that nickname."


	13. Chapter 13 Birthday Party

**Birthday Celebration**

_Hogwarts – Party Room – 19__th__ of September_

Fairly exhausted, Hermione plumped down between Harry and Daphne at the edge of the new party room of Hogwarts. The room had been one of the innovations of the new school year, and was accepted with much enthusiasm by the student body. It was thought to be a meeting point of all houses, and especially with the student delegations of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, and it had been in great demand in the last three weeks.

Hermione, who had intended to more or less skip her birthday, had been surprised in an embarrassed, but simultaneously pleased, way as the Weasley twins announced a big party in her name. Fifteen years of age – two years too young to participate in the tournament. Not that she would wish to do so, in contrary to the Weasley twins who had been pouting about the demanded minimum age.

With a smile she accepted the drink offered by Harry and looked around. She had never dreamed of a party of this dimension. A cake, a pot of tea and a handful of friends – that had been the type of her birthday party until now. At least until a certain Weasley surprised her …

.

_Three days ago_

More than once in the past week the Weasley twins had smiled mysteriously in her direction. And more than once they had interrupted a whispered conversation if Hermione walked too near. Normally she would assume some pranking bargains but somehow she felt that this was something else. As Fred paced towards her she hoped to get some answers and his broad smirk told her that she was right about her assumption.

"Hello, Mione-dear," he started and put an arm around her shoulders. That he ignored her puzzled frown and that Angelina Johnson didn't glare in their direction confused her a bit. Harry had told her about the 'Angelina/Daphne-deal' he had made with Fred and apparently the Weasley boy had tried to fulfill his part of the bargain, spending more time with the athletic and beautiful chaser and acting more like a gentleman around her. He even asked her out for the upcoming ball; perhaps the first one to do this as the Yule Ball until now was more or less a secret to be officially announced after the arrival of the delegations.

She had accepted and while they still weren't officially an item, Angelina had shown a modicum of jealousy since then. There had even been a heated conversation between her and Daphne about the blossoming friendship of the Slytherin girl and the twins, but somehow Daphne had been able to soothe her again.

"George and I," he continued, omitting the typical attempts to confuse the identities of the twins, "thought about your upcoming birthday. With Ron certainly presenting his usual package of sweets, your low interest in our splendid products and your other friends – as we expect – covering your book wishes, we considered a different type of birthday present for you. We'll organize a large party inclusive drinks, nibbles and music. You have nothing to do besides looking good and enjoying yourself. And we don't accept a 'no' for an answer."

He had left her in stunned silence and before Hermione had a chance to react the twins started to loudly announce her party. Oh Merlin …

.

_Present_

Of course she had to take care of the punch not being spiked and to test the butterbeer to have only the usual low amount of alcohol, but apart from that it had been really nice to simply play the hostess of the party. Hermione felt a bit bad that so much work had to be done by the house elves, but for one evening she was ready to simply accept it. The nibbles had been nice as was the music – mostly coming from the wireless. A few of the guests – mostly Gryffindors but also a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and exactly three Slytherins – even danced. The most elegant dancing pair certainly was Blaise Zabini, in his dark blue suit, whirling around his girlfriend Tracey Davis, who was in a periwinkle dress short enough to get her much attention from all boys around.

Hermione had hoped that Ron would ask her for a dance too, but perhaps that was too much to hope. After a few days of glaring he had returned to his usual behavior and even tried hard to be nicer and more patient towards Harry and her. Hermione supposed that it had something to do with the letter he got from his mother, but it was nice nonetheless. Despite their frequent quarrels he was still one of her best and oldest friends. And while Harry certainly was like a brother to her, there was this little crush she had on Ron since last year.

Why hadn't it been Ron to offer her a drink? It was something a boyfriend would do. Not that Ron was her boyfriend but at least it would show interest. Ron seemed not even to notice her mood about this, contrary to Ginny who glared for a short moment in Hermione's direction before hiding it behind a false sweet smile. Harry hadn't offered a drink to Ginny, Hermione noticed.

A small groan slipped Hermione's lips as she thought about the last weeks and Ginny's behavior. She had – as expected and feared – tried to use Balou to get near to Harry. Dragging the tomcat around, ignoring how much Balou hated this, she used every opportunity to show Harry what a wonderful 'cat mother' she was. More than once she sat at Harry's side and leaned against his shoulder, causing Harry to tense not all too covertly. Hermione usually swayed between groaning and smiling, watching this kind of behavior. But sometimes, deep within, she wondered if this kind of behavior on her side would motivate Ron to notice her – not only as 'one of the boys' or 'the one to help with the homework' but simply as 'Hermione the girl'.

.

An elbow into her side brought Hermione back from her to reality. "You're thinking too much," Daphne grinned. Since their return to Hogwarts she had spent countless hours in the library together with Hermione, totally ignoring the glares of her Slytherin housemates and a few Gryffindors. Sometimes Harry wondered if Daphne would not prefer to have Hermione adopted into her family. "Thinking about a boy, I assume from your expression."

Glancing in Ron's direction Hermione blushed and hastily looked down to hide her reaction. Daphne noticed the glance and struggled to hide her disgust. While her relation to the Weasley twins had improved immensely and she really liked Bill Weasley for his part in saving Hermione at the Quidditch finals, her hatred for Ron and Ginny had only increased in the last weeks. But today was certainly not the time to speak with Hermione about this ridiculous crush.

Daphne pulled her present out of her bag and pressed it into Hermione's hands. She knew that Harry had given his own present hours ago: a new flying broom, not the fastest but a very secure one. It was normally meant for elderly persons and quite a number of security spells were woven into the broom. But Hermione's security, and especially her sense of security, was more important than some flashiness. He already had started the promised flying lessons, until now flying together on Harry's broom. But from now on they would start to fly solo and Daphne hoped that the progress would go on furthermore.

"A book," Hermione grinned: "what a surprise."

Daphne punched Hermione's shoulder lightly. "If you don't like it …"

Hermione avoided the hand that tried to grab the book and started to unwrap it. "First I want to have a look."

It was a large and very heavy book, even more than her favorite book about Hogwarts' History. "It's written in French," Hermione frowned. "I only know the basics of the language and I've never read a book in it."

"That's the reason," Daphne showed her the last chapters of the book, "that the book is bilingual: French and English. With the student delegations incoming I thought you would like to read something about them. The book is similar to 'Hogwarts: a history' but about the school of Beauxbatons. And to train your pronunciation this book has a speaking function. You cast 'Sonorus' on a page to hear the words and 'Quietus' to end the effect." Daphne smiled a bit insecurely: "I hope you like it. I know it is a bit unimaginative to give you a book but …"

The girl's rambling was interrupted by Hermione hugging her heartily. "This is a splendid gift. Neither as dangerous as Harry's nor fattening like Ron's sweets – simply splendid. Thank you very much."

Daphne sighed with relief. Her insecurity had only been partially real. Additionally, it was meant as a distraction to give Harry a chance to usher Neville in Hermione's direction. The shy Gryffindor boy had been watching Hermione for at least half an hour, not able to gather the courage to offer her his own present until now. The small box, crafted from teak wood and the size of a shoe box, rested heavy in his hands. Daphne had helped him to choose something special and even presented a picture of her own bracelet to enable Neville to order something matching to Hermione's bracelet. Her cryptically smile had unsettled him a bit but Harry had supported Daphne's idea and so Neville was standing now in front of the bushy-haired girl and tried to suppress his nervousness.

"I … I have something for you … Hermione," he stuttered slightly, hastily avoiding her wide-eyed stare. The present still in his clenched hands Neville needed a small kick from Harry to realize that he had to hand it over. "Here … here it is."

"Thank you Neville," Hermione accepted the gift with a soft smile. Gently she caressed the well-crafted box. "Not a book I assume," she noticed, causing Neville's blush to deepen while he was only able to shake his head. Hermione opened the box and saw a silvery brush surrounded by six equally silvery hair slides. All of them wore ornaments similar to her new bracelet.

"They … they are matching to … to your bracelet," Neville explained, his stutter lessening as Harry put a calming hand on his shoulder. "The brush has a charm on it. It helps to … you know … tame your hair. Not that you would need it … I only thought …"

Harry stopped Neville's rambling with a short pressure of his shoulder. A bit calmer Neville continued: "And the hair slides expand the duration of that hair charm. The longer you brush your hair and the more of the glides you wear the stronger the charm will be."

Daphne shared a grin with Harry. After the reaction of Neville around Hermione on the ride to Hogwarts they had spoken about the boy more than once. Unlike to Neville it had been clear to Daphne how personal this kind of present would be to a girl. Hair and fore teeth were the two criticized points Daphne had about Hermione's appearance, the two attributes she expected the girl herself to be uneasy about. And she intended to alter them this year. It all belonged to her plan to set Hermione up with someone special – and certainly not with Ron 'I-hate-Snakes' Weasel. Neville on the other hand seemed to be quite nice, fairly intelligent and really kind. He only needed a little push into Hermione's arms, Daphne mused.

Harry was grinning broadly at Neville's side. He had been very supportive of her plans, realizing instantly what Daphne planned. That he – who knew Hermione and Neville far better than her – apparently agreed with her matchmaking plans, reassured her.

Neville seemed eager to flee like a hunted deer as Hermione gently closed the box, put it in Daphne's hand and stood up to step nearer. With Harry's hand still on his shoulder he was unable to follow this urge and he nearly fainted as Hermione embraced him – even more than Daphne before and certainly unlike to the embrace she had given to Ron an hour ago – and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "This is a very sweet gift, Neville. And very thoughtful – thank you so much."

The happy smile on Hermione's face, the deep blushing of Neville and Harry's soft grin – Daphne was unable to suppress her smirk as she looked towards the Weasley clan. A frowning Ron, Ginny who slapped her brother's head; and the broad smiles of the twins were all Daphne needed to make this her day of the month.

.

The conversation of Daphne – sitting a few places to his right – with her friend Tracey was only a lulling mumbling in the background. Relaxed Harry leaned back, a mug of Butterbeer in his hand, his feet sore from dancing. Daphne hadn't accepted a 'no' as she asked him to take her to the dance floor and after one dance – with Harry dearly hoping that his torture was coming to an end – sent him off to try another one with Hermione. Tracey followed swiftly and after the three ladies had left, there was no excuse to avoid Ginny anymore. Daphne had responded to his increasing glare with her sweetest smile and somehow he feared that this wouldn't be the last opportunity to torment him with social graces.

At least he hadn't been forced to dance with Professor McGonagall. Together with Professor Flitwick she had been on the party for a quarter hour, to congratulate and deliver her present – a book about some obscure Transfiguration spell nobody aside from Minerva and Hermione ever heard about. Harry sighed. On the train ride to Hogwarts it had been his decision to speak with Minerva about Roxanne. Especially he had wanted to ask her about the correctness of Roxanne's fear: that Minerva was still angry about the marriage to Cyrus Greengrass. But to his astonishment she had so far avoided speaking privately with him. More than once he had caught her staring at him thoughtfully and it made him a bit uneasy.

Flitwick on the other hand seemed to be quite supportive. As expected he had confirmed Agatha's statements regarding the magical properties of Hermione's bracelet. He had been quite impressed and congratulated Hermione with her finding. A few minutes later, the small Professor with the goblin blood had been the attraction of the party. A very relaxed and happy looking Daphne – her appearance being quite a difference to her normal well-guarded behavior – had been dancing with him and obviously Professor Flitwick had enjoyed the attention of his cute, favorite student with the long black hair and grey eyes of her mother that sparkled with joy of living.

_Cute? Where did that come from_? He glanced to his right – hastily averting his look as he noticed the knowing smile of Tracey. She was Roxanne's daughter. She was his sister. She wasn't cute. Harry couldn't say when this change had been in his mind, if not in his words, when he had decided to really give this new family a try, even before speaking with Sirius. But somewhere along the last weeks the question – _should I?_ – had changed into a decision.

"I've forgotten my present for you," the voice of Susan Bones interrupted his string of thoughts. Peripherally he had listened to the short exchange of the Hufflepuff girl congratulating Hermione and drinking a toast to her with a round of light white wine. Susan, niece of the renowned Amelia Bones, had been one of the few students who had not only been agreeable to the 'Harry/Greengrass'-thing, but even belonged to a small group around Hermione and Daphne that met regularly in the library. Neville had been there most of the time, Padma Patil very often – apparently the Patils had been friends of the Pinegrews since their arrival in Britain twenty years ago – and to his regret Harry had been 'invited' too.

At least the brainiac girls ignored him most of the time. And yes, his marks had improved greatly. And yes, Daphne was certainly more talented than Hermione in explaining all the stuff that was too complicated for him – or simply too boring. But sometimes he really longed to imitate Ron's behavior and change from the library to the Quidditch field.

Another look around – Susan had left to fetch her present. Some of the younger guests had left the party in the last hour too but a few hardcore Butterbeer drinkers had assembled around the twins near the wireless. Blaise apparently had stopped to pretend listening to his girlfriend and was sound asleep and slightly snoring.

"Warm water with a small amount of oil should be helping to relax your feet," Hermione quipped, the tone of her voice not as pleased as her words suggested.

Harry grinned at his best friend: "They're certainly in better shape than yours after my attempts to flatten your toes." He frowned shortly as he noticed the tension of her stance. "Are you alright?"

Hermione tried to stop his concerns with a wave of her hand, but how she leaned on Neville's support betrayed her played composure. "Perhaps I had too much Butterbeer; I feel a little light-headed. Could you keep an eye on my guests? I would like to lay down for a bit."

"Say no more! I will look after them, especially after the twins," he grinned shortly exchanging a look with Neville who nodded slightly. Neville would be there for Hermione.

While Neville fetched her gifts, Hermione said goodbye to Daphne and Tracey before she left the party room, her arm linked with Neville's for a bit of support. Harry's concern increased as he turned around only to see Daphne deeply in thoughts. She didn't listen anymore to Tracey's ramblings but stared at the exit, her expression showing that she pondered about something, her mind not fully able to grasp what troubled her.

"Something on your mind," Harry asked her. Startled she looked up, her face still working.

"The smell …"

"Smell, what smell," Harry's eyes narrowed. There had been something weird about Hermione but he didn't notice a special smell.

Daphne paled intensely: "Her eyes, how have they been?"

"Wha … what? Eyes?" Harry shook his head to clear his mind. For a moment he thought about the question. Eyes – yes, that had disturbed him. "Bloodshot I would say. But … the color was more lilac than red."

Daphne paled even more and for a moment Harry feared she would faint. But before he could ask her, the girl hurried away, shouting for the twins: "Fred, George, I need your help, NOW." Waving them to follow her Daphne went for the exit, grabbing a bottle of water and a salt shaker as she passed the buffet table.

Ignoring Harry's concerned questions while she run after Hermione and Neville, Daphne asked him breathlessly: "You're able to cast a full Patronus, aren't you?"

"Yes, why …"

"Send him to Madam Pomfrey; deliver a message. Tell her we have a case of thorn apple poisoning."

"Poisoning …" Harry stopped and stared at her fast departing form. Realizing that he would get no answer he tried to concentrate, waving the twins to run after Daphne. _A happy thought … Hermione poisoned … a happy thought … who would poison … ?_

Struggling hard to thrust his fears aside Harry concentrated again. Normally he used the memories of his parents to cast a Patronus but somehow they now slipped his mind. His wand hand trembled and he had to grasp the wrist with his left hand to steady him.

_The bracelet_, Harry thought as he touched the leather. A voice filled his mind: _that leather bracelet had been meant to be worn by your father, Harry_. It was a kind of heirloom, a sign of his new family, a proof that he could get away from Vernon 'the whale' and Petunia 'horse-head' Dursley.

"Expecto Patronum!" The light formed the shape of a stag, flickering first but then solidifying. While the stag vanished into the wall to deliver the message, Harry hurried after Daphne and the twins.

As he reached him two minutes later, Harry found Hermione leaning against the wall, more or less steadied by Neville's grip. His clothes were blotted with vomit; the empty water bottle and the equally empty salt shaker were cast aside.

"I sent the Patronus," Harry hastened to assure a questioning looking Daphne. She sighed and kneeled at Hermione's side. "Are you able to breathe again?"

Between heavily forced breaths of air Hermione nodded weakly.

"You're sure about the poisoning," Harry asked, causing the twins to inhale deeply and Neville's heart to skip a beat.

"Yes, the smell, the look of her eyes … concentrated thorn apple I suppose. Her breathing difficulties match," Daphne responded. Watching Hermione breathing heavily a thought crossed her mind: "Thorn apple is a fast poison, working after thirty minutes at most. What had she been drinking and eating in this time?"

With Hermione unable to answer the question, Harry pondered: "She hadn't eaten anything since the cake an hour ago, I think. And drinking … the wine … the bottle of wine is still there. Stay here with Daphne," he ordered the twins and started to run, back to the party room.

.

"The wine is quite nice," Tracey stated and went towards the wireless, leaving her boyfriend at the small side table. Blaise filled a second glass, carefully corked the bottle and lifted his glass to inhale the aroma of the wine. _Not bad at all_, he mused. Just as he wanted to sip the wine a hand slapped it away, causing him to lose his grasp. The glass flew at the wall and shattered.

"Are you mad," Blaise asked Harry, who tried to grasp his breath, his face red with exhaustion?

"Sorry … poison," he gasped. On Blaise' doubting look Harry continued: "No joke … poison … has anyone drunk from the bottle?"

"Tracey," Blaise pointed towards his girlfriend and paled. Slightly shuddering he watched Harry repeating Daphne's drastic treatment, putting salt into a water bottle, warming the bottle and forcing Tracey to drink and vomit. It was quite a show for the assembled hardcore guests who ignored Blaise's scolding and watched the very unhappy Slytherin girl. But Harry showed no mercy until Tracey's stomach was empty too. Only then did he pocket the wine bottle and helped Blaise to transport Tracey to the Hospital Wing.

He only hoped that he would get good news about Hermione on his arrival. Hopefully they had been fast enough. And when Hermione was out of danger he would look for the culprit and kill him … slowly.

.

_**A/N**_

_Please don't comment the medical correctness of this poisoning and my 'cure'. I only say: artistic freedom._


	14. Chapter 14 Gryffindorish Trust

_**A/N**_

_Special thanks to Mythrandir for his very helpful review and to Blacksaiyan1103 for his beta reading._

.

**Gryffindorish Trust**

_Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – 21__st__ of September _

.

Her head felt like it was wrapped in cotton wool, her arms like lead, and her mind was working in slow motion. A soft, tender hand caressed her left arm, but she was unwilling to open her eyes yet.

"Only a few more minutes, mom," Hermione mumbled and tried to hide under her sheets.

Someone sniggered and she opened her eyes very slowly. A bright ceiling above, a soft bed below – she knew this feeling, this sight. She was in the Hospital Wing – again. Hermione remembered another time she had awoken in this room. Harry had been here and …

"Ron?" she asked in a whisper as she turned her head towards the person that was sitting at her side.

"Err – no," Hermione heard the well acquainted voice of Harry. "It's Neville-mom." With a new snigger he tried to overact the situation and the reaction on Neville's face, the short moment of disappointment before he forced a concerned smile on his lips again.

"Hello Hermione, good to see you awake again," he whispered. His voice was warm but his face showed a large amount of exhaustion. Deep rings around the eyes told of long hours of watching her.

"How long …?" she asked weakly and turned her head towards Harry. A number of people were in the room too, standing near him or rising from their seats and beds farther away. Daphne, she noticed instantly. Padma was near another girl … Susan Bones. The woman at her side looked vaguely familiar.

"About time, sleepy-head," a voice growled, the open relief on Agatha Pinegrew's face taming the words' sting.

The other faces shared this mix of concern and relief except the one of Susan. The Hufflepuff girl apparently had spent hours crying and her eyes were deep red and puffy. She tried to step nearer but the woman at her side grabbed Susan's arm and prevented her movement.

"Hello Miss Granger," she greeted Hermione with a stony face. "I'm Amelia Bones, head of the …"

"DMLE and Susan's Aunt," Hermione interjected with an exhausted smile. Now she remembered the face more clearly from some articles in the Daily Prophet: "Happy to meet you. I always hoped to meet you after all the interesting things I read about your work."

From another person this could be interpreted as empty flattering but the adoration in Hermione's voice told the experienced Amelia Bones that every word was meant as such. It only made her next sentences all the harder to say.

"I have, more than once, heard stories about your talents, too, Miss Granger. I only hoped the moment of meeting you would be more pleasant." She stepped nearer and took a seat at Hermione's side. For some moments she struggled with words before she started, glancing to her depressed looking niece.

"Miss Granger, at the end of your birthday party you had been poisoned. It was a fast acting and potentially deadly poison. Without the fast reaction of your friends and Madam Pomfrey's healing abilities we wouldn't be standing here now but …"

Amelia Bones stopped and allowed her words to sink in. _I could have died_, Hermione thought. She remembered Daphne reaching her in that corridor and forcing lukewarm salt water down her throat. She remembered her dizziness and how her lungs struggled for breath. She remembered the smell of her vomit, covering the clothes of Daphne and the worried looks of the twins behind her. Harry had been there and told something about a Patronus … about a bottle of wine.

"The white wine," she asked meekly?

Amelia nodded. "Yes, the poison had been in the white wine. Luckily Mister Potter had been able to avert others from drinking it. Only Miss Davis had a few sips of wine but Mister Potter forced her to vomit and brought her fast enough to the Hospital Wing. She's already in her dormitory again. You on the other hand had been out for two full days. But Madam Pomfrey is certain that you'll recover fully and be able to leave in a few days."

Hermione sighed. Her head was heavy with exhaustion but she looked shortly at Harry and Daphne. "Thank you," she whispered. Harry nodded, started to say something but closed his mouth again and only smiled. Daphne on the other side stepped nearer and put her hand on a small book that was resting on the small table there. Hermione read the title of the worn book: _ How to feel safe around your family – a guide to poison detection_. What a Slytherin title for a book, she grinned shortly.

"I'll expect you to read this before you leave the Hospital. I had totally forgotten how Gryffindorish you are after your last signs of intellect. Really, Hermione, drinking something without examination. Tut-tut. About the book: it is a gift I got from my Aunt Anna before I entered Hogwarts. It is really time for you to read it too. And be sure that you're able to cast the spells correctly when I test you. I marked the most important ones."

"Yes, mother," Hermione grinned. But Daphne snarled back: "No, Neville is the mother. I don't want to be related to you; way too much lion's blood in your veins." At least she had to battle the smile that tried to invade her face. Harry failed horribly at remaining serious and laughed out loud.

"I see you still try to instill some Slytherin traits into her, Daphne," Agatha joked.

Daphne made a depressed gesture: "I struggle and fail hopelessly. She'll never be accepted into a worthy house."

"You mean like Ravenclaw," Padma interjected with a smirk, causing Agatha to laugh heartily.

"I'm truly sorry to interrupt this moment of joy," Amelia Bones tried to remain calm," but there is something I would like to address now before Miss Granger is too exhausted."

Hermione nodded in her direction, her eyes shortly wandering towards Susan. The Hufflepuff girl still seemed ready to start crying again and nothing of the last happy banter had been able to lift her mood. _She had been there too. Had she been poisoned as well_?

"We have some serious matters to discuss and decide how to proceed. Because my niece is involved I'm not here in my official function but as Susan's relative."

The conversation slowly got very weird in Hermione's opinion, but the suddenly very sour expressions on the faces of Harry, Daphne and Padma told her that this would be no fun. Apparently the trio had been discussing with Amelia Bones before and didn't seem to share her opinion.

"The bottle of wine had been a present of Susan to you, as you perhaps remember. After your rescue there had been an investigation and we found the empty poison vial in Susan's trunk."

Hermione paled in shock. She glanced at Susan, tears running down her cheeks, then at Harry, his jaws clenched and his teeth grinding, and at Daphne at last, the black-haired girl showing a mask of iron. Padma stepped forward and put a reassuring arm around Susan's waist to steady her and the Hufflepuff girl put her head on Padma's shoulder.

"She wouldn't do that," Hermione whispered with a coarse voice. "Someone had framed her." The glaring grey eyes directed at Amelia Bones and the wheeze escaping Daphne's voice spoke clearly of her '_told you so_' opinion. Daphne showed Hermione a hint of a smile and her shortest nod of approval.

"It is not that simple. Susan has done this. She bought the wine and the poison, put the poison into the wine and offered it to you. She can remember that. Only she can't say why she would have done this," the voice had a tune of steel but her eyes told clearly how unhappy Amelia was about this.

"Susan?" Hermione asked in a whisper.

The girl nearly cracked and would have collapsed without Padma's support.

"Get a grip," Daphne snarled. Shocked eyes stared at her but she was unfazed by their reactions. "Tell her, Susan. Pull yourself together and tell her what you told Padma and me two days ago."

Padma led Susan to the bed beside Hermione's. On a short nod of Daphne, Harry stepped at Amelia's side and signaled her to distance herself, allowing her niece to calm without the glaring eyes of her Aunt. Hermione would have smiled about her friend's impertinence to order around one of the highest Ministry officials but she was too much troubled about Susan in the moment.

With a barely hearable whisper the girl started to explain, her sentences several times interrupted by bitter sobs. "A few days ago I thought about getting you a present. Somehow the idea of buying a bottle of wine crossed my mind. I went to Madam Sprout and presented her a written permission of my Aunt to visit Hogsmeade to buy one. The permission was false, the signature faked. In Hogsmeade I bought the wine and the poison and stored them away. At the evening of your party I put the poison in the wine and offered it to you. I only pretended to drink it too. Afterwards I left the wine so that some of your friends could use it too."

"But why, Susan, why?" Hermione asked flabbergasted.

The girl shook her head. "I have no idea. Hermione … Daphne, Padma and you are my best friends here at Hogwarts. I can't imagine why I could have done this. I even don't know why I chose the wine as a present. I had something different ordered for you before. My first present is still in my trunk."

"Another question is: how did you know where to get the thorn apple poison," Agatha interrupted. "It is not that simple to get something like that, especially in Hogsmeade."

Susan nodded weakly. "That I don't know either. Somehow I knew where to find the woman who sold the poison and what I had to say – the keyword. And after the poisoning I simply walked away. I didn't destroy the empty vial; I didn't flee but simply went to sleep."

"Sounds awful like the use of mind alteration spells to me and an Imperio curse to add," Harry stated and Hermione agreed inwardly.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious, for stating … the obvious," Daphne growled. Her face and even more the lopsided smirk on Harry's told Hermione that her friends had this discussion before … and apparently this wasn't their first exchange of insults too.

"I agree with everything you want, Hermione … Legilimency, Verita serum … decide and I'm content." Susan's voice showed her desperation clearly.

"That won't be necessary," Hermione uttered. It simply didn't cross her mind that someone could really believe Susan to do this willingly.

A deep groan to her left, a groan sounding like '_Gryffindor_', alarmed Hermione. "You're lucky that you're too weak to get slapped for this nonsense." After a short harrumph of Harry Daphne added with a smirk: "This and that Mister 'I-defend-you-with-my-teeth-and-claws' would try to protect you."

"But I believe her," Hermione moaned in despair.

Daphne rolled her eyes: "Tell me something new. Do you remember, Padma, what I told you? I said, _'she'll simply believe every word of Susan without proof'_. Didn't I, Padma? Sure I did."

Padma sniggered and Harry agreed: "Yes, you did; omniscient-one."

Daphne totally ignored the irony and nodded regally.

"You should take this more seriously," Amelia Bones interjected. "As much as I'm happy about your trust, we can't simply ignore the facts and doubts."

Hermione signaled Harry to help her sit up and gestured Susan to step nearer. With much hesitation and only after reassuring nods of Padma and Daphne she followed the invite, only to tense as Hermione simply hugged her. "I believe you, Susan. There is no need for Veritaserum."

"Ouch," Hermione yelled as she received a slap at her head from Daphne.

"Sorry, reflex," Daphne shrugged without much remorse. "You're wrong, Hermione."

As Hermione tried to interrupt, Harry stopped his friend: "Let her explain."

"Thank you," Daphne nodded regally again and accepted Harry's mocking bow. "Naturally there is no need for such things to convince us. I'm certain every one of us is willing to believe Susan and, while it hurts my Slytherin soul to do so, I would even back away from using such methods of truth-proving in this case." Daphne shuddered slightly: "Bad-lion-influence. I spend too much time with you three. Next month I'll get warm blood and wear a happy smile around all the time." The following laughter caused even Susan to relax a little bit.

Much more serious Harry continued: "But we know how stubborn our housemates can be, Hermione. Some of them – and certainly many others from the other houses too – won't simply trust her."

Daphne agreed: "My housemates won't believe anything, that's for sure. But with Veritaserum we could at least try to convince the rest of the student body. This wasn't Susan's fault, and I'm not happy at the thought of her suffering from ridiculous rumors for the rest of her time at Hogwarts."

"If you're both agreeable, we'll use Veritaserum and Legilimency to prove Susan's explanations. Professor McGonagall agreed to publish the result."

Susan simply nodded, unable to speak, and after some moments of considering the idea Hermione agreed too. "Who'll execute this," she asked?

"I'll do this," Agatha stepped forward. "I don't belong to Mrs. Bones' department and I have the needed skill to brew the serum and use Legilimency on her. Minnie agreed to oversee this."

_Minnie … Minerva McGonagall_, Hermione smiled a bit and nodded again. This would be the best course of action.

"And Susan …" Harry started, staring at the still frightened and depressed looking girl.

"You won't hide from the stares," Daphne continued.

"You'll study with us as before," Padma declared.

"And you'll eat with us," Neville ended the collective explanation of trust and support.

Hermione simply nodded and even Amelia Bones shared the smile of approval Agatha showed.

.

Susan had left the room with Daphne and Padma accompanying her. That Hermione trusted her and the vocal support of Hermione's friends had meant the world to the Hufflepuff girl. The next few weeks wouldn't be easy for her, but at least there would be a future at Hogwarts.

"This leaves the important question: who casted these mind alteration spells? Who was daring or determined enough to try this attempted murder and even went so far to use an Unforgivable on my niece," Amelia broke the silence.

"Hermione, I would like to tell Mrs. Bones about the … other incident. Do you think that Mr. Longbottom should stay for this talk," Agatha suddenly asked, stunning Hermione with the question. It was a risk: telling Mrs. Bones and even more with another student learning that secret. It was a risk especially for her daughter. The simple fact that Agatha asked her, showed her trust in Hermione's opinion and her choice of friends. Slowly she nodded. "I trust Neville without any doubt, Agatha. He won't tell anybody." For a moment Hermione mused that this statement was simply correct. She trusted Neville with such a secret, much more than she would do in the presence of hot-head Ron.

Slightly confused Neville followed the exchange but calmed down as Hermione pressed his hand reassuringly.

Amelia Bones stared at Agatha Pinegrew: "another incident? This hadn't been the first attempt?"

"No," Agatha shook her head. "A month ago, at the Quidditch finals, when those dumb-headed Deatheaters fooled around, two of them used the confusion to attack Miss Granger and Mister Potter."

Neville paled and looked questioning at Hermione, but the girl said with a soft voice: "It is okay, Neville, nothing happened to us."

"How serious was that attack," Amelia asked.

"Serious enough," Amelia responded. "They used Reducto spells several times."

"They would have killed us," Harry interjected. "They were really good, very strong spells. Without …" He glanced at Agatha and after a short nod he continued: "without the help of Roxanne Greengrass we would be dead."

"Roxanne," Amelia asked flabbergasted: "your daughter?"

"Yes," Agatha confirmed. "She helped Hermione and Harry to escape. In the fight one of those Deatheaters had been wounded … he lost his wand hand."

Amelia took a deep breath. "Does she know who …?"

"No," Agatha denied. "Until now the identity isn't known. "She had tried to spend more time with the friends of Mister Malfoy in the last weeks but until now none of his friends showed signs of that battle. Perhaps he hides to recover. We hope that we'll be able to identify him in the time around Christmas. Everyone will participate in the Christmas Ball season. Hopefully he'll be there too. Perhaps you could use your influence to get to know if someone received an artificial hand at St. Mungo."

"I'll do that," Amelia Bones agreed. For a while she looked thoughtfully before she asked with concern in her voice: "Does he know? Does that Deatheater know about your daughter's part in that battle?"

"I don't think so. She had her face hidden behind glamour and only a handful of persons know about it."

"Good," Amelia relaxed.

.

Amelia Bones and Agatha Pinegrew had left the Hospital Wing to speak with Professor McGonagall about the examination Agatha had planned for Susan Bones. That left only Harry and Neville at Hermione's bed, as the girl – now thoroughly exhausted – remarked: "I don't know what I despise more: the fact that someone tried to poison me or that this someone used Susan to perform the attempt."

"Both deeds are disgusting," Harry agreed. With a short snigger he continued: "Daphne spend the last two days reading her books, searching for a number of especially painful hexes she wants to teach you after your recovery to use for revenge."

"Her temper has been really bad," Neville added with a soft smile. "Hopefully you're faster than her when we learn about the culprit's identity." Harry thought otherwise but stayed silent. Whoever did this poisoning deserved anything Daphne was able to come up with, as long as she didn't get caught.

Hermione mused: "I was astonished to see her simply trusting Susan's story."

"You know only half of it," Neville mumbled.

On Hermione's questioning look Harry tried to explain: "Susan wanted to stay with you, to watch you recover. But her Aunt opposed that. Susan was heart-broken. I think this whole poisoning and her part in it … she was really devastated. Mrs. Bones and Professor McGonagall only allowed Susan to stay with you after Daphne invoked something …" Harry struggled for a moment. "I didn't really understand, perhaps Neville is able to explain, it was some pureblood society thing."

"Honor witness," Neville went on. "Daphne asked if Susan would be allowed to stay with honor witnesses and Padma supported the idea. Mrs. Bones and Minerva agreed."

"What's an honor witness," Hermione wondered. "I never heard such a term."

"You won't hear it very often in the future, I assume," Neville smiled shyly. "Daphne and Padma accepted the role of being Susan's honor witnesses for the time until you awake and decide how to continue. Until that moment they were responsible for everything Susan would do. Had Susan tried another attempt on your life, they would have been responsible too."

Hermione gasped and Harry muttered: "I didn't know that this had been so serious."

Neville nodded slightly: "you can imagine that there aren't many purebloods willing to take such a risk even for their best friends, especially … especially not a Slytherin."

The three friends stayed silent for a long time before Hermione broke the thoughtful silence with a loud laugh: "Daphne is correct about one thing." On the questioning looks of her friends she explained: "We're bad influence for her. To trust a Hufflepuff's word in such a matter, that's so un-Slytherin."

"Gryffindorish trust," Harry sniggered: "too bad, poor thing."

Neville shared the laughter: "Soon they'll revoke her Slytherin house honors. Perhaps you should adopt her."

For a long time the happy laughter of the three friends was hearable in the Hospital Wing and the surrounding corridors.

.

Totally exhausted Neville had complied at last to Harry's urging and left the Hospital Wing after a last promise to visit her the next afternoon. Harry watched him leave before he quietly told Hermione: "Susan had never been far away the last two days, with Padma or Daphne at her side all the time. There had been many other visitors too, even Lavender and Parvati had been her to deliver flowers and sweets." He sniggered shortly: "Even Crookshanks had been here several times. The last time Madam Pomfrey nearly had a seizure as she tried to chase him away."

Hermione smiled thankfully as she thought about her tomcat. A short glance in Harry's direction: _was he thinking about his own tomcat now too_? "And Ron," she asked with frightened hope in her voice?

"Yes, sure, he was here," Harry responded a bit grimly. "You know him: he was livid about the matter."

Hermione sensed that there was something else, something she wouldn't like. Did she want to ask? Hermione struggled but in the end she wanted to know what troubled her best friend: "there is more about Ron, isn't it?"

Harry gulped and looked down. Switching from one foot to the other he obviously didn't really want to answer, only increasing Hermione's curiosity: "Harry?"

He sighed deeply, but it was Madam Pomfrey – who had entered the room to look after her patient after all those visitors – who answered: "he was here for a very short visit. He said something about Quidditch training as he left."

Hermione paled and stared at Harry for confirmation. After another deep sigh he said: "even without official Quidditch plays this year the team wanted to train, perhaps plan some friendly matches. Ron wants to be our keeper next season."

"I understand," Hermione said hoarsely and she really did. Quidditch had been more important to Ron than anything else, more important than school, more important than friends, apparently more important than her. Certainly she could excuse his behavior with the fact that he couldn't do anything to help her recover from the poison, but Harry had been here nonetheless. Padma had been here and Daphne and many others. She felt like crying.

"He wanted to evict Miss Greengrass," Madam Pomfrey growled: "uttered some nonsense about Gryffindors not needing Snakes around. I had to send him away to restore peace."

Madam Pomfrey walked away, mumbling angrily. Harry put a hand on Hermione's arm: "I'm sorry, Mione."

"It is okay," Hermione hiccupped and tried bravely to show a happy smile, failing miserably. "You were here and Daphne and Neville."

Harry's face softened as Hermione mentioned Neville: "yes he was. He never left your side, brushed your hair with that new brush, read you some novel from this Jane something. Neville even got a special permission from Professor McGonagall to miss classes. I have no idea how he was able to receive one. And don't you dare to scold him about that."

"I won't, Harry," Hermione mumbled as she leaned back at her cushion, now with a real smile on her lips, "I won't."

.

Three days later Susan Bones entered the Great Hall at the side of Hermione Granger. Surrounded by Harry, Neville, Padma and Daphne they took seats at the Hufflepuff table for dinner. This show of trust and support made even more of an impression to the student body than Professor McGonagall's speech about 'Miss Bones not being a willing participant in the murder attempt' after the examination.

Slowly peace set in again and the students turned away from the spectacle. Only two pairs of eyes rested on the group of friends for a long time. Their attempt had failed, the Mudblood still lived. They would try it again, plan it more carefully. Their glares switched to the black-haired witch across Hermione. _Traitor_, they thought. She had been the reason for the Mudblood's survival. She would suffer for this deed too.

The hateful observers didn't notice that they were being observed too. Thinking about all the small hints of the last days and pondering about the hateful stares her two year mates threw at Granger and Greengrass, more than simple suspicions wore their way through Pansy Parkinson's mind. Should she do something about that? She hated and despised Granger, liked nothing more than the imagination of the Muggleborn witch being hexed, suffering, humiliated. But to kill her was something else, something she couldn't agree with despite all her hate. And now Daphne would be in danger too.

Pansy glanced at Draco and Astoria. How would Draco react? What about Astoria? Despite any disputes and conflict – limits existed that shouldn't be crossed. It had been the same reason that her father, despite his part in the Muggle bashing a month ago, had been livid about the attack on Granger and Potter. To kill two children – especially with one of them the boy-who-lived – would be really bad press for the cause. Her father had been full of spite about a certain wannabe Deatheater and his loss of a hand.

Pansy sighed. She would have to think about that. Perhaps a letter was in order now.


	15. Chapter 15 The Delegations

_**A/N**_

_After a week of illness here is my next chapter. To alleviate the delay this chapter is a bit longer than usual (5,3k words instead of the usual 4k). I hope that I'll be able to publish 2 chapters a week from now on. _

_I made two small but not unimportant corrections in chapter 14 in the part about the poisoning culprits: Pansy thinks about her __**year mates**__ (not house mates) and __**wannabe**__ Deatheaters._

_Btw: To anybody who adores the __**Addams Family**__ (like I do) I recommend the Harry Potter / Addams Family Crossover storyline of kyaru-chan (Harveste Addams)._

_Special thanks for Beta reading blacksaiyan1103 and Thawk6._

.

.

**The Delegations**

_Hogwarts Courtyard – 30__th__ of October_

.

Harry waited expectantly for the arrival of the delegations with everybody in the courtyard of Hogwarts. The teachers had tried to keep a hint of order, organizing the students into their houses and years but had stopped this futile attempt some minutes ago. Instead of orderly lines there would be clusters of chattering students greeting the delegations. The elder students exchanged comments about the expected looks of the foreign students, especially of the French girls, while the Quidditch fans had only one theme: Viktor Krum.

He would be here this year and every team hoped they would be able to convince him to play a training game against them. Some of them even dreamed of a kind of unofficial cup with a Beauxbatons and a Durmstrang team pitted against the four house teams.

A few months ago Harry would have been one of these eager fanatics but not anymore. Too much had happened since the end of his last school year. And the behavior of Ron Weasley, how he preferred Quidditch training to staying at Hermione's side, had been the last straw. With Oliver Wood gone the new team captain would be Angelina Johnson. With Alicia, Katie and the twins supporting her there hadn't been any discussion about Angelina's new position on the team and Harry expected her to be splendid. While she wasn't as fanatic as Oliver about Quidditch, she would be the best choice and this year – without regular cup games but friendly games between the houses – would offer her an opportunity to collect some experience before the real show began.

While she had been a bit reluctant to replace Oliver with Ron – the twins had been forced to convince her behind the scenes while outwardly joking about their brother's abilities – it needed only one testing session to allow an overwhelmed Ginny Weasley to be the fourth family member on the team. She showed quite some talent as a Seeker and Harry assumed that she would be a game winner next year.

_I really like her more on the Quidditch field than sitting at my side in the Gryffindor dorm_, he pondered shortly.

Harry himself hadn't the slightest inclination to play Quidditch this year and the only regret regarding this decision had something to do with those long black hairs visible among the Ravenclaws. Cho Chang would be the Ravenclaw Seeker again and without the games it would be even harder to spend some time with her. Not only did she belong to another house, but she was one year his senior. Because of that they had no classes together and the games would have been the best chance to be in her vicinity, to speak with her about a neutral theme. A very tense Daphne had tried to convince him to ask Cho out for the upcoming ball as soon as it was officially announced this evening, but he wasn't sure he would be brave enough for this step.

And even if he asked her – how could he compare to someone like Cedric Diggory? It had been obvious in the last weeks that the Hufflepuff Prefect had started to show interest in the Ravenclaw girl. A bloody good Seeker himself, a Prefect with good family background – add to this his handsome looks, his intelligence and the rumor that he would be the Hogwarts' Champion and it was obvious to Harry who would win in a race for Cho's sympathies.

Reassuringly Hermione pressed his hand. The no-more bushy-haired girl smiled in the direction of her best friend, sensing what he was thinking about, following his eyes to the Ravenclaw girl that had shown no more than a passing interest in Harry so far. She had been surprised to hear Daphne offering him advice on how to go on with his adoration, how to connect with the girl of his day dreams. Surprised because since Hermione's birthday and the days they spend together in the Hospital Wing she had watched the growing connection between Harry and Daphne. While Harry had been able to control his temper more than before – partially because of their common Occlumency training – and surprised more than one teacher with his improved learning behavior, Daphne had allowed herself to open a bit, to show her warmer side and her dry humor once in a while, at least around her Gryffindor friends.

.

"_Why …" Hermione hesitated for a few seconds. Despite their growing friendship – a friendship that blossomed despite the resistance of most of the Slytherins and a greater number of Gryffindors – she wasn't sure about asking this. This question would be a very private one._

"_Why am I helping him with Chang?" A tiny smile was visible on Daphne's face at the sight of Hermione's embarrassment._

"_Yes, why are you encouraging him in the matter? Even I can see that she isn't girlfriend material, at least not with regards to Harry." Hermione sighed, her face showing clearly how unhappy she was to speak about this matter. She had learned a bit on how to hide her emotions through her Occlumency sessions but just these sessions had allowed Daphne to gain an intimate knowledge of her mind, intimate enough to often know what Hermione wanted to ask before she said the words._

_Daphne shrugged and most people would have overlooked the small hesitance in her reaction, the small tenseness in her shoulders. But Hermione wasn't 'most people'. She tried her best to hide the smile while she listened to Daphne's answer. "He has to experience himself, has to realize what kind of shallow bitch she really is."_

_That Daphne insulted the girl revealed more about her inner turmoil than she wished. Daphne never insulted anybody – aside from Ginny and Ron. _

"_But," Hermione's eyes narrowed," what if she …?"_

"_Never," Daphne shook her head. "Even being the boy-who-lived wouldn't be enough for her. Harry would have to become Hogwarts' Champion before Chang would think about being his girlfriend."_

_Hermione hoped Daphne was right. Luna had complained about the Seeker's behavior more than once and with Luna seldom complaining about anybody that meant so much to Hermione. She wasn't eager to spend more time with the girl than absolutely needed._

.

Again Hermione pressed his fingers and gave Harry a friendly smile. He returned the gesture, wondering why Hermione was reassuring him. The last weeks certainly had been reason enough for her to need some reassurance herself.

.

_One month ago_

Since Hermione's return from the Hospital Wing at least one of her friends had always been around here at every single moment. Harry, Daphne, Neville, Padma, Susan and even Tracey and Blaise had taken turns to accompany her to every lesson, every meal and every walk to the library. More than once Blaise used this bodyguard service as an excuse to 'check security' in the girls' bathroom before he allowed Hermione to enter – despite Tracey not being very amused about the matter and more than one bruise on Blaise's arms and shins proving this disapproval.

This time – on the way to Potions – it was Harry's duty to watch over her. The sight of Draco and his cronies caused him to groan inwardly. While Millicent had been oddly silent around Hermione and Daphne this year – more than once exchanging thoughtful looks with her housemate – Pansy had used every opportunity to besmirch Hermione. This time it was the same.

Draco, who usually took the lead in these 'conversations' held back and allowed his follower – certainly he wouldn't call her his friend, a Malfoy didn't have friends, only allies or minions – to step forward.

"Look what we have here: Potter and his little Mudblood. I really hoped you would stay in the Hospital for a little longer instead of pestering the air around us."

A hasty look around showed Harry that Neville wasn't there. _Luckily_, he continued his string of thoughts. The formerly shy boy hadn't showed his inner Gryffindor more than once in protection of Hermione and would certainly react very angry to this hated cuss. Not for the first time he wondered why it was allowed to even use this word in the school without reprimand. No muggle school would allow any student to swear like this continuously.

Dean and Seamus were near enough but ignored the hassle. They had more than once voiced how unhappy they were about Harry's and Hermione's friendship with a snake. And Ron – nobody expected him to help Hermione anymore. Again he ignored an opportunity to help the girl who still had a crush on him and perhaps this repeated betrayal, more than the insult itself, caused her to react so strongly now.

Helpless Harry watched as the girls continued to insult each other while he tried to have an eye on the rest of the gang. Something was wrong about this and it wasn't only the fact that Pansy's tone of voice betrayed how little her heart was in this. Several times since the poisoning attempt Harry had the impression that Pansy was insulting Hermione more to convince herself that she still hated her. It was really weird.

But this hassle seemed too planned, too much like a trap. When Draco stepped back a bit, placing Goyle between him and Harry, his next action became clear but it was too late. Wands were drawn and while Hermione had no problems to disarm Pansy and avoid her pitiful attempt to curse her, Harry's warning was too late and she was hit by Draco's Densaugeo.

With malicious smiles the group watched as Hermione's teeth started to grow. Dean and Seamus now at last wanted to intervene but were stopped by Ron's grip and short shake of his head. Harry was shaking with rage, his anger growing as Snape's appearance denied him any opportunity to hex Draco. Instantly the Slytherins' wands vanished and, as always, Snape put the blame at the Gryffindors feet.

"Starting trouble again, Potter, "he snarled, his eyes resting on Hermione's face with a broad smirk on his face. He had done his best to turn the other Slytherins against Daphne since the summer break, obviously annoyed by the thought of this 'inter house relationship'. Harry had hoped that Snape would react in another way because of the Potion Master's former friendship with Harry's mother, but apparently he had been wrong about this. To his surprise Daphne hadn't shared Harry's hate towards Snape but never explained her reasons.

"Draco the git hexed Hermione."

"Oh," Snape responded, his smirk only the broader now, "how so? I see no difference."

Dean and Seamus at least had the dignity to look ashamed but even now they didn't come to her rescue and Ron even dared to grin as Hermione run away with tears with her eyes. In that moment it was neither the surprisingly sad looking Pansy nor the smirking Draco that Harry hated with all his heart. Even with Daphne and a few other Slytherins trying to convince him from the contrary he still expected Slytherins to act like snakes. But Gryffindors, Hermione's friends, they shouldn't be like this. Hastily he followed her to the Hospital Wing.

.

Deep in thoughts Harry watched Hermione leaving the Hospital with Neville at her side. Madam Pomfrey's medicine had been able to overcome the curse and not only restored the former condition. The medicine had been working a tad too long and now the front teeth were shorter than before, granting Hermione an even sweater smile. He had been speaking with her in the past about correcting her front teeth, but she hadn't allowed a magical correction against the wishes of her parents. Sometimes it wasn't the best to have Dentists for parents.

So this attack had been positive in the end. The chosen curse, the chosen medicine and the delay prompted by a distraction with some potions falling to the floor that caused Madam Pomfrey to spend some time cleaning the floor instead of ending the cure – this all was all too much of a welcome coincidence.

"You don't happen to know something about this whole cursing matter, Daphne?" Harry started, eyes locked with the girl at his side. Daphne had watched Hermione and Neville leaving too. Now her soft smile vanished and that she tried to show her 'ice princess' appearance again convinced Harry all the more that he was right about this.

"Those potions falling down," Harry stated, his smile showing that he agreed with her deed, "you caused that."

"Perhaps," Daphne shrugged. As she started to walk away Harry stopped her by grabbing her arm. The girl frowned but didn't try to break free.

"And 'perhaps' you have an idea too why Draco chose right that curse?"

"Perhaps," now Daphne allowed a tiny smile to crawl onto her lips. She blinked waiting for Harry to continue but the boy only stared at her and waited. After some minutes of silence she groaned, caving in to his unspoken question.

"Everybody knows that targeting your friends would hurt you more than hexing you directly. It may be that I mentioned Hermione's unhappiness about her teeth to Tracey. Perhaps I have been a bit too careless and allowed Pansy to eavesdrop on our conversation. It is not always easy to have a private conversation in the dorm."

"You're really a little snake, aren't you," Harry grinned.

Daphne bowed slightly: "We can't alter our nature."

.

_Present_

While Harry and Hermione tried to calm each other, tried to convince each other that the arrival of the delegations would start a change for the better, they were observed by more than one Slytherin. Tracey Davis noticed that more than one of her house mates stared at the Gryffindors with eyes full of hate and fury. That the Densaugeo spell had kind of backfired, helping Hermione Granger in the end instead of embarrassing her, had been neither the first nor the last incident. Tracey hoped that her house mates at least restrained from executing something more vicious, not to speak about another murder attempt.

To her relief Draco and his cronies hadn't realized that the whole buckteeth incident resulted from a plan Daphne had worked out. Only Pansy seemed to suspect something, but the petite girl with the pug face hadn't been as eager to insult or hurt Hermione as before since that incident. Instead Pansy had been acting very weird, her eyes more than once glistening with unshed tears, her face a mask of sorrow, something Tracey would never have anticipated. What could be troubling her? Especially that one afternoon had been odd, the afternoon after the DADA lesson about the Boggart.

.

_Two weeks ago_

If the first lesson with Professor Moody had been bad, the one where he demonstrated the three Unforgivable Curses, then this lesson would only be an escalation in embarrassment. The killing of a spider, how the poor animal crumpled down after being hit by a green flash of light, had prompted more than one student to sob. But it had been the usage of the Crucio that had stirred the strongest reaction from Neville. He would always connect that Curse with the condition of his parents now and forever. They lived – no, they existed – as hollow husks, devoid of any reasoning or emotion. His mother not even reacted to his presence most of the time. This emptiness was a result of Bellatrix blasted Lestrange using the Crucio on them for an endless amount of time, burning their minds away with a flood of pain.

Today wouldn't be about the Unforgivables but about the Boggart. It had only been a year ago that Professor Lupin introduced them to that very special creature, a creature that appeared to everyone as his deepest fear. To most there wouldn't be any change, Neville assumed – to most of them, but to some …

Moody, who had been careful to stay in the back of the room, had started with Z as Zabini and worked his way through the alphabet backwards. The first unexpected change had been Harry's boggart. While in the last year they all had watched his mental battle against a Dementor-Boggart, this time the all too well-known appearance of a Deatheater had been the target of his fears. Quite a number of Slytherins had been giggling about Harry's fear, but Neville had only concentrated on the Deatheater's odd behavior. Instead of attacking or insulting Harry, it had started to attack a nebulous target. While discernible to be someone female, the exact identity didn't become clear. Neville even suspected the reason: it wasn't a single female he feared to lose to a Deatheater but several.

After Harry changed the Deatheater garb into a clown's costume and his spells into water bombs, several other students had to face their fear before it was Neville's turn to step forward. The last time it had been Snape's form the Boggart had taken, a fear Neville had been able to fight through changing Snape's clothes into that horrid flower dress of his Grandma. But this time it would be something else and more than his fear itself he trembled because of the expected reactions of the spectators and especially her.

Gasps and laughter erupted as the Boggart turned into a second Hermione. "You don't really think that I could ever like you, Nevi-boy, do you? Look into the mirror, you poor excuse of a wizard. Unable to perform the most basic spells, unable to brew the simplest potion, what could I see in you more than a flower boy? You'll never be able to compare to a real wizard like Harry. Merlin, even Goyle and Crabbe are better wizards."

Neville only stared at the girl, thick tears running down his cheeks. He knew that most students and teachers assumed him to be not much better than a Squib. Merlin, even his own family had thought about him like that for a long time and more than once his own Grandma – despite her deep love for him – had been disgusted comparing his own achievements to those of his father. Only in a haze Neville saw the wand in his hand, the wand he had inherited from his father, the wand his Grandma hoped he would use to achieve something noteworthy.

"Riddi … Riddiclus … Ri …" it was hopeless. Hermione was right: He would never be a real wizard. Seeing the frame of the Boggart only as a silhouette against the white wall, his ears filled with the laughter of the other students and Draco's vile comments, he suddenly felt someone stepping at his side and grabbing his hand. Cool fingers interwove with Neville's and her sweet voice whispered reassuring words into his ears, forcing away the cruelty of the Slytherins. He knew that Hermione didn't share his feelings, that she only saw a friend in him. But it was enough for him, enough to be assumed by her to be worthy of her friendship. He was happy about what he had.

"Riddikulus." A mix of relief, happiness and insecurity was visible on Neville's face as the Boggart-Hermione's outfit changed. Now a new Hermione was standing there, wearing a classical ball gown, the hair carefully braided and a small bouquet in her hands. It didn't really need any word to declare that Neville wanted to ask Hermione to be his date for the ball. As he looked around in the room, struggling to avoid Hermione's eyes, he saw a far range of expressions on the other students' faces.

On the right Draco and his cronies showed that patented disgusted smirk, with only Millicent showing a little smile and Pansy staring quite thoughtfully at the boy.

On the left Harry and Daphne not only stood side by side but shared a broad and happy smile. Dean and Seamus looked surprised but not unhappy. After the incident with Draco's curse they had tried to behave better and even apologized a few days later for not supporting their housemate. Unsurprisingly Hermione had accepted the apology, shortly looking expectantly in Ron's direction. But the red-head had only pouted and turned away. Now again he was more acting like a Slytherin, showing anger and even hate as he scowled at Neville.

Why had he to react like this? On the one side treating Hermione like shit, only speaking to her if he needed her help and never showing any romantic interest in all the time. But on the other side he obviously begrudged her to have other friends and showed this behavior total unworthy of a friend, showed open jealousy to anyone who tried to spend time with Hermione. If Ron's behavior already irritated Neville – and enraged Harry as far as he noticed – how confusing must it be for Hermione?

Neville pressed Hermione's hand a last time before he returned to his place, hoping that Ron would be able to reach a conclusion about his feelings in the near future.

.

Two thirds of the students had already finished their battle of fears when Daphne Greengrass stepped forward. Neville, who had been pondering about Hermione and if Professor McGonagall would be her Boggart still, now looked up and frowned. He had used the last weeks to get to know the Slytherin girl a bit better but he had no idea what her Boggart could be. Some magical creature like the one Parvati feared? A Professor she feared to disappoint or could it be someone she loved?

When the Boggart changed into a girl, Neville needed a while to understand. The girl seemed to be Astoria, perhaps a bit older than now, a little more haggard and with dark rings around the eyes. A cruel smile was visible on her lips and she had her wand in her hand as she stepped towards her older sister. Unbelievingly Daphne paled and started to tremble with fear, unable to raise her wand. With every step Astoria made towards her, Daphne's quivers increased. Neville frowned. He had never seen the girl like this, not even when Hermione had been poisoned.

"Now, little sister, I'm the strong one, the one destined to rule. You're disgusting in your weakness. Father should never have allowed you to sully the honor of our house through your betrayal. A blood traitor you are, as a blood traitor you'll die. And when I'm finished with you, I'll make a visit to our lovely mother."

Daphne, ice princess, strong Daphne, was now shuddering violently and slowly collapsed to the ground, not even trying to lift her wand or to defend against the upcoming attack. Only now Neville noticed the tattoo on Astoria's arm, the dark mark that proved her status as a Deatheater.

_Her strongest fear is that her younger sister could become a Deatheater and she would be forced to battle her_, Neville shuddered. He had expected a rift between the girls because of their different world views. _How wrong I have been? How would I feel should I be forced to fight Grandma?_ No wonder that the proud, stoic girl reacted like this.

"Pathetic," Astoria scolded her: "That I ever could see a familiar mind in you. But I've been able to grow up, to see the light. You, my little heap of disgust, on the other hand …"

Certainly Boggart-Astoria would have gone on and on with Daphne unable to resist her fear and Professor Moody obviously unwilling to step in. Neville concentrated on Daphne and didn't notice the short signs of understanding on more than one Slytherin face, didn't notice the single tear running down Pansy's cheek. He only heard their spiteful laughter about Daphne's weakness and unworthiness to be called a Slytherin. As he started to turn around a fast motion attracted his attention. Harry had drawn his wand and a mighty blasting spell burst the Boggart asunder, followed a second later by weaker but equally angry spells of Tracey and Hermione. But it was a fourth spell that shocked Neville really, a weak and ill-placed spell, more annoying than hurting the Boggart, hitting the false Astoria a split second before even Harry's spell.

Searching for the source of the spell all eyes locked onto Pansy. The small Slytherin stared at her own wand as if pondering about whose wand this could be and who had been the one to execute the first spell against the Boggart. Apart from Daphne's shuddering sobs only silence was in the room as nobody knew what to say about this turn of events. As Millicent gingerly touched Pansy's elbow the girl startled and broke away like a doe on the run. Seconds later she had left the room. Professor Moody, with his Boggart destroyed, had to end the lesson and quietly the students left the room while Tracey and Hermione led Daphne to the Hospital Wing, hoping that Madam Pomfrey would be able to help the shaken girl.

.

A few hours later, the dinner underway, the great hall saw the Slytherins at their table. Pansy sat a bit apart with only Millicent in her vicinity and, surprisingly, Blaise Zabini. Draco and his cronies obviously had been able to overcome their short moment of insecurity and were their typical self again, once in a while sending a glare of disapproval in Pansy's direction. Only Astoria seemed a bit troubled, the smiles she showed a bit forced, her eyes devoid of her usual happiness she always felt around Draco.

As Daphne entered the hall with Hermione and Tracey at her sides, the great hall fell silent. All knew about her Boggart and her breakdown; all awaited the reaction of her house mates. And they weren't disappointed. Starting with Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott a wave of scornful laughter erupted, greeting the 'weak girl' that had shown so strong emotions about a family member. That was so disgustingly un-Slytherin, Draco had explained; so worthy of a Hufflepuff. Perhaps they should change her green robe-lining into a yellow one?

The gathered teachers silently watched as Daphne stopped. Professor McGonagall seemed to fight an inner battle but restrained from wading in. It wasn't her place to influence the Slytherin students. The short nap in the Hospital Wing hadn't been enough to really calm Daphne down. Her inner turmoil and fears were still clearly visible on her face. She obviously struggled to decide whether to follow Tracey or Hermione. Harry left his place and walked towards her, as he saw a small person doing something he had hoped for but not really expected. He knew about Daphne's deep devotion to her younger sister but wasn't sure about Astoria's feelings. Now he got an answer.

Jumping on the table, totally ignorant of the disgusted expression on her fiancé's face, Astoria rushed towards her sister in an athletic but very unladylike manner only to jump Daphne, nearly toppling her to the ground. It was hard to decide which girl trembled more as they clung to each other, embracing the other one as if their life depended on it. For a short moment Hermione had tensed as she saw Astoria, but now she relaxed again, smiled at the un-Slytherin show of affection and shortly pressed Astoria's shoulder to show her appreciation about the sisterly gesture.

"Take your hand away from my fiancée, Mudblood," Draco snarled. "And you better come back at my side this instant, Astoria. This behavior is …"

"SHUT UP!" More than one student jumped back at that piercing sound. More than one student watched totally flabbergasted as a fire-red faced Pansy Parkinson strode towards Draco and continued to scold him. "Shut up you brainless jellyfish. I have enough of your disgusting clap-trap. If you haven't to say anything sensible shut your filthy yap. You're only jealous that not everyone has an emotionless family like you do, willing to sell their only child to the highest bidder."

For a moment Draco stared shocked before he was able to respond: "Jealous, I? At least somebody is willing to make an offer for me, not like you. Your parents certainly already lost any hope of getting rid of you without paying for the pleasure."

The full-force slap was greeted by stunned silence. Disbelief was in Draco's eyes, blood run down from his split lip. Without another word Pansy walked away. She was halfway towards the hall doors as the Weasley twins started to cheer, starting a wave of support from three tables that no Slytherin had ever experienced before. That even Snape stayed silent and, instead of giving her detention, watched her leave with a small but content smile, was only the icing on the cake.

Only the table of Pansy's house mates stayed silent with most of them unsure what this eruption meant for them in the future. Nobody felt the urge to hassle Daphne anymore. And while Astoria escorted her sister to Tracey and Blaise Draco felt for the first time that he couldn't take the affection of his fiancée for granted.

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 31__st__ of October_

With a last cruel smile he turned away from the sleeping form of Madam Sprout. He had altered her mind and when she awakened in an hour she would assume to simply have dozed off for a while. After a last careful look around he neared the Goblet of Fire. As expected there were a number of wards on the magical artifact. Nothing he wouldn't be able to breach without noticing anyone. They were meant to hold students away like the Weasley twins who had been denied to take part in the tournament because they only turned seventeen in a few months, not someone like him.

No, he didn't need help with these wards but certainly the information he got from Headmaster Dumbledore about the workings of the Goblet itself had been helpful. For a few seconds an all too girly giggle left his throat, a sound that would stun everyone who knew him. But he couldn't help it. It was simply too funny that Dumbledore, all-mighty, all-sneaky Dumbledore was willing to help him to commit the task his Lord had given to him.

For a moment his good mood died away as he thought about the boy's unwillingness to trust him, to spend time with him. Certainly those girls were at fault for his behavior. Granger and Greengrass apparently had a growing influence on the Potter boy and even convinced him to decline, politely, his offer to teach him Occlumency. Naturally he hadn't really intended to help him to shield his mind but it would have been a very good opportunity to alter his mind, to probe his thoughts and to test his resistance against Imperio spells.

But that wasn't all too important. Important was this task and within minute he was able to trick the Goblet into accepting not only the slip of paper with Harry Potter's name on it but also to change the 'Tri Wizard' into a 'Quattro Wizard' Tournament. For a while he had wondered why the Headmaster hadn't simply chosen the way to replace the rightful Champion of Hogwarts with Potter. But he assumed that even Dumbledore didn't expect Potter to win the tournament and wanted a real chance to win the cup. This was unimportant too. Important was only that Potter would be part of the tournament.

Madam Sprout was still playing the sleeping beauty. Clicking he walked away content with this night's proceedings. Now it was time to plan how to help Potter to win the tournament. His Master would be pleased.

.

.

_**A/N:**_

_What could be the reason for Pansy's behavior? And how will Astoria's show of affection influence her engagement?_

_The next chapter(s) will be about the reactions to the choice of champions._


	16. Chapter 16 Breakfast at Hogsmeade

**Breakfast at Hogsmeade**

_Hogsmeade – 19th of November_

.

It was a cold but sunny morning that greeted the quartet on their way to Hogsmeade. In five days one of them would be forced to undertake his first tournament task with the rest watching him anxiously from the tribune. Forced because Harry hadn't wanted to be one of the Champions, hadn't wanted to besmirch the concept of the tournament being the youngest and fourth Champion.

Not many students – or teachers, adults, journalists – shared the deep trust his three friends shared, the belief that Harry Potter wasn't an 'attention-seeking cheater' as Ron Weasley had stated in such an ugly way. That Ron actually believed Harry would do this, that he would want to risk his life for a little fame, had been something Hermione was fully unable to understand even now, more than two weeks after the shouting match. Had Ron ever listened to his supposed best mate in the past? It had been the reason for several very loud and angry discussions and in the end led to their breakup. There wasn't a golden trio anymore and in retrospect Hermione wasn't sure that she had ever known the real Ron. Now she was quite happy that he had never tried to become her boyfriend. But it still hurt a bit deep down.

"_Another year without a Weasley jumper,"_ had been Hermione's only comment. Despite the mocking tone Harry had noticed the slight hurt. Apparently Hermione had never felt as welcome at the Weasley home as he had been.

While Hermione and Daphne were happily discussing their latest Ancient Runes assignment – something the boys really didn't want to hear especially on their Hogsmeade day – Harry and Neville followed ten steps behind. Harry watched them deep in thoughts until he felt Neville's eyes on him. Glancing at his 'new best mate' he saw the amusement and blushed.

"I'm not ogling her," he insisted.

"Sure," Neville grinned.

"I … I was thinking," Harry continued hesitantly.

"It's called daydreaming," Neville countered with a hint of humor in his eyes.

"Really," Harry harrumphed. Staring at the village in front of them he explained: "I think … I think I'll tell her … yes."

Harry felt stupid but to his surprise Neville understood. No, it wasn't a real surprise. In the last months he had detected a new, hidden side of the boy, a side only visible now with nobody around to suppress his kind and understanding side … nobody like Ron.

"You want to tell Lady Greengrass that you agree with the adoption." It wasn't a question but a statement and his tone said clearly that Neville accepted the decision, even supported it.

"Yes," Harry agreed. He stayed silent while they finished the last distance to the village, watching Daphne again. He had been agreeable to the idea since their return. Certainly how Daphne had handled the poisoning attempt on Hermione had improved their relationship immensely. But the last straw had been the Boggart lesson. The women that had been attacked by Harry's Boggart had been images of Hermione and the Pinegrew ladies. Obviously his sub consciousness had been far ahead of his conscious reasoning. And if he had really needed a last push then he certainly got it through Daphne's fear and Astoria's reaction.

You can't lie to your Boggart and the vision of her fear had clearly proven Daphne's innermost feelings. Harry still disliked the younger Greengrass girl and her purist world view. But a Slytherin that showed her deep affection towards a family member in such a way wasn't all evil in his book. Perhaps Daphne and he could rescue her in a way despite her crush on Draco badmouth Malfoy.

"Harry?" Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Harry, startling him from his deep thoughts. Kind laughter greeted his return to the present. "Direct to the Three Broomsticks now?" she asked and he agreed.

Roxanne had wanted to spend the day with them in London but Headmaster Dumbledore had forbidden the excursion: "It is too dangerous".

_Bloody hell, Headmaster, ever noticed the Trolls, crazy teachers and Basilisks running amok at school? _Harry grumbled. _Not to mention the Dementors sent by the Ministry_.

To enforce their stay in Hogsmeade they even had a watchdog now. Additionally to the large number of Aurors watching the school since the delegations' arrival one of them had been shadowing the quartet, a young woman with pink hairs named Tonks. In their short conversation at the doors of Hogwarts Harry had taken an instant liking to the young and beautiful woman, but still he resented the Headmaster's interference. They had arranged a breakfast meeting at the Three Broomsticks with Roxanne and afterwards … they'll see.

.

Rosmerta had ushered them into the backroom after their arrival at the tavern. Harry was conflicted about Tonks presence, especially when he realized that not only Roxanne and Agatha were waiting for them – and now greeting an overly enthusiastic Daphne – but also the small frame of the Pinegrew houseelf Ciddy and a large black dog.

While Roxanne greeted her guests and waved them to take a seat at the breakfast table, Agatha closed the door and casted some spells to ensure their privacy. Without putting her wand away she addressed Tonks in a very stern manner, showing clearly that she would react in an unpleasant way should she dislike Tonks' answers to her questions.

"To whom does your loyalty belong today, Nymphadora Tonks – to the Ministry or the Order?" She demanded to know.

Puzzled the teenagers watched the scene. Hermione mouthed silently 'Order?' but Harry only shrugged.

"Neither," Tonks responded, trying to sound calm. "Officially I'm here for the Ministry to watch over one of the Champions. Unofficially I'm here on Remus' request. I have to admit that the Headmaster isn't unhappy about my presence here but I won't betray Remus' trust." She sounded serious enough and Agatha seemed to trust her word.

"You know Professor Lupin?" Harry asked fervently. He hadn't seen his former DADA teacher for months and was eager to hear about him.

"I do," Tonks smiled at him, before she addressed the dog: "Isn't it a bit dirty down there, Sirius?"

Harry and Hermione paled, but the dog instantly left his place and changed into his human form. A second later he had Harry's arms around his waist and tried to calm the boy under the warm smiles of everyone.

"Could we please start the breakfast? All these emotional greetings make me hungry." Agatha's try to break the mood caused the desired effect and everyone tried to spend the next hour eating and small-talking, to leave behind their problems and deep thoughts at least for a short while.

.

"So," Harry started hesitantly, looking thoughtfully towards Tonks, "you do know Remus? And you even know about Sirius and his form?"

The young woman picked at her food and didn't look up as she slowly started to answer: "My mother told me about Sirius. Andromeda … Andromeda Tonks née Black … she is the sister of Narcissa Malfoy and Sirius' cousin. Perhaps you heard about her. She had been disowned by the family after marrying my Muggleborn father. She bade me to watch out for Sirius and told me about his Animagus form." With a rising blush she continued: "Remus is a good friend. He lives at …" with a confused look she stopped shortly.

"He lives in the house of my family," Sirius asked and Tonks nodded. "It is under a Fidelius charm."

"Fidelius," Hermione asked?

"Kind of charm to hide a house," Daphne explained. "The house is hidden from view and you can't even tell the address. You need a slip of paper with the address written on it by the secret keeper of the charm to find and enter the house. It is a very advanced spell."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Hermione just wanted to drink some tea but stopped the motion as she noticed Harry's stare: "What?"

Harry blinked a few times and smiled before he fetched the planer from his pocket, the same planer Hermione had given him at the start of the school year as a late birthday gift. With emphasized gestures he wrote something, speaking to himself: "Hermione admitting that somebody knows more about a spell than her."

"Git," Hermione mockingly punched his shoulder, while Neville drily retorted: "Not somebody but Daphne. Daphne is allowed to know more, especially about a charm. If you know more about a spell, Harry, yes, that would be noteworthy."

.

"How is he doing, Tonks?"

"Headmaster Dumbledore allowed Remus to live … there. He's kind of housekeeper for the Order."

"What Order," Hermione interjected. "You already mentioned an Order, Agatha, but I have no idea what you mean."

"I don't know …" Tonks started but Agatha snarled: "Please, don't behave like that old Dumbledork." Sirius and Roxanne grinned, especially as Agatha continued with her best Dumbledore imitation: "They are too young to know."

Tonks shrugged: "He only wants to protect. Without Moody I wouldn't know about the Order even now and I'm 21 and Auror already."

"Moody belongs to this Order too?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Tonks responded. "And he has been my mentor since I started my training."

"And what's this about your house, Sirius?"

Sirius sighed. "Dumbledore asked me about using it for the Order. You must know that the Order had been a very important organization in the battle against you-know-who. Remus and I had been members, your parents too, Harry. Even Peter had been in the order. Most of the others died but a few still live you do know: Moody especially, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Minerva."

"The Order had been disbanded more or less," Tonks continued, "after … after your parents died, Harry, and you-know-who with them. As far as I know only around a dozen members still hold contact and meet regularly, kind of taking watch should he return. Headmaster Dumbledore is quite sure that one day he'll return and he wanted to be prepared or at least have a foundation for a new Order."

"He asked me to join to Order again," Sirius sighed, "but I declined. I don't want to see that house anymore but join the Order again? No." Seeing the frowns and looks of confusion he tried to explain: "I still believe in fighting him and most members of the Orders I trust, more or less. But I promised myself to never again allow others to hold dominion over me, to make decision I should do myself. Dumbledore's influence is too strong and all-encompassing in the Order. And most members accept his control without doubt."

"He's the most experienced and perhaps the only wizard able to defeat who-know-who," Tonks said with a deep frown. Her admiration for Dumbledore was obvious again.

"Yes, but he always thought too highly of himself and his abilities," Agatha interjected with a bad grace. "He sees himself as infallible. Think about how it ended the first time. Without his decisions … Harry, your parents trusted him. They wanted to leave the country for a while but Dumbledore convinced them that the Fidelius Charm on their house would protect them. He was wrong."

"He couldn't know that …" Tonks started but Agatha slapped the table with her open hand to interrupt her: "Correct: he couldn't know that Pettigrew would be a traitor, that he would lead the Deatheaters to the house and allow him to kill Harry's parents. He couldn't know that Sirius would end in Azkaban for something he never did." Slowly the small lady got enraged and all listeners shrank back in their seats to avoid her temper. "He couldn't know that even after you-know-who's death some of his followers would continue, that Bellatrix would pay a visit to House Longbottom and drive Neville's parents into insanity."

She suddenly stopped, clasping her mouth shut, staring at Neville and only continued in a whisper: "I'm so sorry, Neville. It wasn't my place to speak about that. I'm so sorry …"

For a while Daphne glared at her beloved Grandma but relaxed as she noticed how Hermione approached Neville and hugged him. Struggling to be brave he calmed the troubled Agatha: "It is okay. I understand what you wanted to explain: Nobody is infallible, irrespective of might, mind or experience."

"Correct," Agatha sighed with relief. "He always acted too omniscient, too 'I-know-better-than-you-what-is-good-in-the-end' … I didn't want to be his chess piece. In the Wizarding chess pieces get destroyed so that the king may win."

.

"So Remus is living in my house," Sirius asked again. "How is he doing?"

"Not well," Tonks replied. "At least he has a place to live but it is a very dark place. Many rooms and items in that house are dangerous. He's bored and he has no money to spare. He has enough for food but not much else. It is the typical fate of a werewolf."

Harry felt a bit depressed to hear that news, even more as he saw the heavy-hearted expressions on the faces of the adults in the rooms. He had heard about the problems to get a real job for a werewolf and had experienced the reactions as Lupin's 'furry problem' became well-known a few months ago. Even Dumbledore hadn't been able to secure Remus' position as a teacher. Startled Harry looked up as he heard the angry growls of Daphne and Hermione.

"Do you really listen to your own blathering?" Daphne asked to everybody around, ignoring the scolding stare of her mother.

"How can you say something like that and tell us – more or less – that this is his fate?" Hermione continued.

Slowly a grin appeared on Harry's face while he listened to the girls. Both got more agitated by the second about the stupidity and short-sightedness of the adults in the room. "He had been best friend of Harry's father and Sirius," Hermione declared.

"And he had been a fabulous DADA teacher, the best so far," Daphne nodded.

"He even taught Harry how to cast a full corporal Patronus," Hermione added.

"Something you have to teach us this year by the way, Harry," Daphne demanded. Harry nodded with wide eyes. He was too fascinated to answer coherently.

"Professor Lupin won't ask for help, that's for sure," Hermione pondered.

"So we have to find a way to help him help himself," Daphne continued.

The girls reminded him immensely of the Weasley twins in the moment and a single look in Neville's face told him that his mate thought the same. It was kind of creepy to listen to them.

"You should renovate your house, Sirius," Daphne demanded.

"Perhaps Bill Weasley could help," Hermione agreed. "He's a curse breaker. Together they should be able to purge your house."

Sirius smiled at them happily. "That's an idea. Tonks, could you speak with Bill? I have enough money to cover it but I'm a bit … restricted." Tonks nodded equally excitedly.

"I think I have an idea regarding a job," Agatha said. "But I have to speak with someone beforehand. I'll tell you later."

"That would be fantastic," Tonks sighed. "With a job he would be able to pay for Wolfsbane again, too."

All conversation stopped, the happiness brushed away in a second. More than one faced paled and Agatha's furious glare could melt ice within seconds: "Please repeat that last statement, Tonks." The young Auror hesitated and slowly sank back into her seat. With fully fury Agatha demanded to know: "You don't want to tell us that Remus has no Wolfsbane now; that Dumbledore doesn't provide him with his monthly potion?"

Very meekly Tonks explained: "Wolfsbane is a very complex and expensive potion. He has only sporadic …"

"Arg …" Agatha's fist hit the table hard enough to send Roxanne's mug crashing to the ground. Furious she started to scribe something on a slip of paper and shoved it towards Tonks. "I expect him tomorrow at that address for a full medical examination and his first batch of Wolfsbane. He'll better show up else I'll pay him a visit and drag his hairy ass over. There's no excuse to live without that potion. We'll find a way to pay for them, but he'll start to use it again instantly, understood?"

Tonks was nearly in tears of joy: "Thank you. I'll make sure … thank you."

.

While Tonks was arguing with Agatha about the Order and Sirius used every minute he had to speak with Harry, Roxanne used the moment to drag Daphne, Hermione and Neville aside to have a little talk with them: "About this tournament … I assume the reactions weren't especially pleased at Hogwarts?"

"No," Hermione answered. "The other Champions, most of the students and even a few of the teachers assume that Harry cheated somehow. They don't know how it was managed but they assume so nonetheless. Minerva … Professor McGonagall … she fears that someone put his name in the Goblet to … I don't know … to do him wrong."

"I agree," Roxanne said. "Harry would never put his name in the Goblet. He is uneasy about his fame, he wouldn't ask for more attention. And I'm certain that none of you would be even able to pull this trick. It has to be one of the teachers or someone similar qualified; someone with enough knowledge about the Goblet and its working."

Nobody liked the assumption but likewise they couldn't deny the reasoning behind it. Quietly Neville said: "There's a rumor: That it was Dumbledore who put Harry's name into the Goblet."

"No," Hermione denied. "I can't believe that. He wouldn't endanger Harry. He always had Harry's interests …" She hesitated, pondering about her own words. Dumbledore had been, aside from Minerva, the one Professor she always adored, always trusted. But her trust had been chipped in the last months.

"I don't know, Hermione," Neville said with obvious uneasiness. "The Headmaster had been a bit odd this year. He had been … he asked me to stop seeing you, you know?"

"WHAT?" Hermione cried out loud. "What?" she repeated a tad calmer.

"Yes," Neville continued quite unhappy. "He said something about Ron and you being destined for each other and that my presence would hurt Ron's feeling."

"Ron hasn't anymore feelings than a log," Daphne grumbled and her friends relaxed, grinning slightly. Even Hermione had to admit that Ron wasn't the most sensible one at least regarding the feelings of others.

"I shouldn't be surprised," Hermione sighed. "He asked Minerva to … Dumbledore doesn't like this adoption idea." She sighed again equally unhappy. "He wanted that Minerva tried to convince Harry to spend more times with Gryffindors, especially the girls. Apparently he's thinking …"

Hermione hesitated under Daphne's furious stare. In that moment it become obvious again how similar the Pinegrew ladies were not only in appearance but in temper too.

"Ginny," Daphne hissed.

Hermione nodded: "Apparently he thinks that Ginny would be the most … appropriate … match for Harry. Ginny has denied several invitations to the Ball. She's waiting for Harry, I assume."

"He should ask Daphne," Neville uttered thoughtfully.

"Pardon?" Daphne death-glared him, ignorant to the soft smile on her mother's lips.

"I … I mean as a friend … sister," Neville hastily back paddled.

"Oh," Daphne relaxed a bit. "Yes, that would be … okay … I assume." Luckily she didn't see the quick exchange of smiling looks between Hermione and Neville. She hadn't been asked so far. Her housemates didn't like her very much in the moment aside from Blaise who would already go with Tracey.

"Back to the tournament," Roxanne called them back. "We agree that someone put his name in the Goblet and that it was difficult enough to exclude a simple prank as the reason – no Weasley twin conspiration. Either it is a kind of test for him or someone wants to use the tournament to hurt him. People died in the tournament, it's nothing like simple games. We have to watch him, help prepare him. Daphne … I'll put Ciddy to work in the kitchen of Hogwarts. She'll work normally there but you can call her should you need her. Ciddy … you'll react should one of these three call your name, do you understand?"

The small elf nodded eagerly, her long ears flapping wildly.

"I'll expect weekly updates from you, Daphne. I'll try to find a better way for communication but for the moment Ciddy will play mail owl. Don't trust the normal owls, they can be intercepted."

_To watch over Harry without annoying him: That would be a full-time job_, Hermione groaned.

.

"We haven't any new hints about the poison attack," Tonks explained crestfallen. "We found the poison trader. He confirmed that Miss Bones bought the poison and was alone. We have a list of his customers but don't expect it to be complete. By the way, Lady Pinegrew, according to the Healers at St. Mungo there hadn't been a case of hand replacement in the last months. So we still have no idea who that attacker could have been."

"I've been spending more time with the friends of my dear husband since the summer break," Roxanne declared, "but none of his Slytherin friends was missing his right hand or had it replaced as far as I was able to detect. A few of his outer political circle I haven't met so far but the usual suspects had been there."

For a while all stayed silent, deep in their own thoughts as Hermione suddenly sighed and pulled a letter from her pocket. "I got this letter," she started hesitantly. "It is unsigned but I think …" she pushed it in the direction of Daphne: "Do you know the handwriting?"

Silently Daphne read the letter before she slowly nodded. "Pansy Parkinson … I'm sure that's her handwriting. But why …"

"I don't know," Hermione shook her head. "I really don't know and that has been the reasoning that I didn't tell you so far. Why should she warn me? Is this warning serious? Or could it be her intent to blame an innocent?"

"What … ?" Tonks asked with a frown.

"She writes … she writes that the culprit isn't a Slytherin … that he's a Hufflepuff. Apparently he tried to poison me because it had been his father who lost his hand back then."

"A Hufflepuff?" Harry asked blinking heavily.

"That's hard to believe," Tonks stated. Being a Hufflepuff herself and with the well-known reputation of her house her doubts were understandable.

"There have been Deatheaters from all houses serving you-know-who," Agatha countered. "And not everyone wearing a Deatheater costume at the Quidditch finals really was one. Precious Cyrus had been there too and – at least until now – he had been reasonable enough not to take the mark."

"He never will," Roxanne confirmed with an iron voice. "It is part of our marriage contract. Should he ever take the mark we'll be divorced and he would lose his beloved wealth. The Greengrasses aren't rich. It is my money – mother's money – that allows him to play the man of the world."

Harry wasn't really surprised to hear this detail. It was very 'Agatha-ic' to protect her daughter like this even in the worst of times. She had told him before how her deceased husband had been adamant that their family needed the protection of the Greengrass-Malfoy connection and how unhappy she had been about the marriage. Only the birth of Daphne and Astoria had been the reason that she was able to forgive him years later.

"And … and who is this mysterious Hufflepuffian killer?" Harry asked.

Hermione started several times, before Daphne took over: "Zacharias Smith."

"Zacharias Smith?" Neville asked in wonder. "I know that he's an ass sometimes and we had …" He suddenly stopped, a deep frown showing on his brow.

"You had what?" Harry asked his friend calmly.

Neville sighed and glanced at Hermione: "We had a few disputes last year after the examinations."

"Disputes about what?" Harry asked again, gesturing Neville to continue.

Another sigh: "About Hermione," Neville continued. Under the confused stares of his friends he explained while he tried to avoid Hermione's eyes: "He suggested that Hermione somehow cheated, that no Mu … Muggleborn could be that good. I think he was only envious. We all know he's quite good and tries hard to be one of the best students."

"He's a typical Hufflepuff: very studious but not intelligent enough to be at the top," Daphne uttered. A mix of glares and smiles greeted her exclamation. "What? It isn't meant as an insult. I'm similar. I spend at least as much time in the library as Hermione but the last shred of intelligence is missing to be on par."

"It is good to know your own strengths and faults," Agatha agreed with an appreciative smile. "And someone has to be the brightest witch."

Hermione blushed because of the praise.

"Luckily we like her enough to overlook that fault," Harry stated, trying to look serious, "despite feeling a bit overwhelmed by her intelligence sometimes."

While Hermione punched his shoulder again, Daphne continued: "At least she is Gryffindor enough to act contrary to her intelligence sometimes. You know: being brave, impulsive, reckless …"

"Gracious, beautiful," Neville complemented, his face's color allowing him to claim honorary Weasley-ship for the moment.

To his relief Roxanne rescued him from embarrassment: "I know his father. He's in Malfoy's outer circle, not very important but trying hard to impress them. I assume he's hoping to gain their support when he makes his move to be the next head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation after Crouch senior. He's the typical pureblood supremacist but so far I thought him to be relatively harmless."

"I thought the same about Zacharias," Daphne agreed. "There are other students I think more likely to try something … Theodore Nott especially. He hasn't been far behind Hermione since first year and he's an even greater prat than Malfoy, only less outspoken. But a poison attack …?"

"Perhaps Pansy is laying a false trail," Harry supposed with a shrug. "Despite her little outbreak she still hates Hermione and is barely tolerates Daphne."

"Pansy is a bitch," Daphne interjected, "but a bitch with honor. She would certainly hex Hermione or poison her with a laxative but nothing more serious."

"Then she's quite different to her parents," Roxanne commented. "Cyrus had to outbid them to get that marriage contract for Astoria and they weren't pleased."

_Pansy's parents wanted to engage her daughter with Draco_, Harry shuddered. _Bitch and prat … what a pair they would have been_.

"At least it is a hint," Tonks summarized. "I'll try to speak with his colleagues. I haven't seen him in a while. I'm curious about what I'll get to know about him."

.

_**A/N**_

_Is Pansy's warning a true hint or a false trail, what do you think?_


	17. Chapter 17 Shopping Spree

_**A/N**_

_I really appreciate Ancient and Forever's comment (I share your opinion about readers' expectations) and Jediprankster's review. The point about Fidelius had been an error on my side and you're correct about the untrustworthiness of the "address on a slip of paper" idea. I would prefer the regulation: someone who knows the address has to accompany you on your first visit personally. The idea about Moody is interesting. I have to think about that._

_Note: un-beta-ed so far _

_._

**Shopping Spree**

_Hogsmeade – 19th of November_

.

"Perhaps this decision had been an error." Headmaster Dumbledore sighed suppressed and leaned back, crunching one of his infamous lemon drops while his eyes, not twinkling at the moment, rested on his guest.

"No, I don't think so," his guest responded confidently and a bit grumpy. "Naturally we can't expect him to win in the end, but I'm sure that he'll do quite well. And it will be interesting to see how he'll fare in comparison to the other Champions, especially Mister Diggory. The three years of age difference are too much but the opportunity to see him undergoing serious tests is simply too great."

Dumbledore drummed his fingers on the table, looking not completely convinced. "But he's spending the day in Hogsmeade instead of preparing for the first task. I've spoken with Minerva and Filius about his spell arsenal and I don't see a convincing way for him to be able to complete the task successfully."

His guest suppressed his urge to roll his eyes. There was a suitable tactic but with Dumbledore's concentrating on spells only and not the whole Potter-package it was no surprise that he didn't see the simple solution.

"He still has five days for preparation. This night he'll learn about the specifics of the task. I spoke with Hagrid about our 'guests' and he'll take Harry to the dragon area. I'm positive that he'll be able to find a way. And he always has Miss Granger at his side as an advisor."

Dumbledore nodded: "Miss Granger is exceptionally good at finding solutions. But Harry simple hasn't the arsenal of spells I expect from the older Champions. If only he was a year older or two."

His guest breathed deeply a few times, struggling to suppress his annoyance. For someone who was planning to send this boy into a battle with the Dark Lord the Headmaster was awfully afraid to risk Potter's life against a simple dragon. Perhaps the rumors were correct about Dumbledore planning to use Potter as a sacrificial lamb at the right moment. What else could be the reason that nobody – aside from Lupin last year – was willing to teach Potter how to develop his obvious talent?

"We have a last trump card," he responded. "Ludo Bagman … he's very interested in Harry's victory. He knows about the task and after his arrival in two days he'll speak with him about potential tactics."

Dumbledore nodded with relief. The thought that Bagman, as part of the committee, wasn't allowed to speak with the Champions about the nature of the tasks, much less about possible tactics, never crossed his mind. "Why is he interested in Harry's victory?"

"He lost quite an amount of money at the Quidditch Finals and now he's highly indebted. As a last way out he made a bet on Harry's victory. Without a victory Bagman will be broken."

A happy smile played around Dumbledore's lips. _Nothing was better than a motivated ally_.

As his guest left his seat Dumbledore stopped him with a last question: "Are you certain that nobody …"

"Nobody," his guest interrupted him. "My meddling with the goblet is not traceable and while there is a rumor about you being part of this, nobody seems to expect my hand doing your work. I avoid speaking with Harry about the matter since I planted that idea in his mind that some Deatheater wanted him in the tournament to kill him." Not a hint of a smile was visible despite his exhilaration about the whole matter. He certainly wanted to kill Harry, but not in the expected way. "With his traditional enmity with Snape it wasn't even required to call a name. No, Albus, Harry has no idea what's going on." _And you neither_, he smiled inwardly.

.

"Drink this," Agatha pushed a small vial into Sirius' hand, while the rest of the group prepared to leave the room. They had decided to spend the next hour shopping before they went to 'Gladrag's Wizardwear'.

Sirius, who had intended to turn into his Animagus form again, stared at the vial with a puzzled look. "It is Polyjuice Potion. You'll appear as one of my co-workers. Please don't do anything stupid, I really don't want to get him into trouble."

With a smile he accepted the vial and seconds later, after Agatha customized his clothes, a bald man around forty left the room with the group.

"Wolfsbane, now Polyjuice," Hermione wondered, her questions directed at Agatha, "Where did you get those potions?"

"Has Harry never told you what I do for a living?"

"No," Hermione shook her head, "I always assumed you would …" The girl blundered for a moment and blushed.

"You assumed I spend my days as a lady without any real purpose," Agatha smiled softly. "Sipping my tea and hawking around while I lash my house elves from time to time." Her grin broadened. "HerDo you really think I could exist without something to occupy my mind?"

Hermione stared thoughtfully at the elder woman: "No, not really. You're too similar to Professor McGonagall."

For a moment the girl feared that she said something wrong as Agatha tensed for a second. But then the woman relaxed again: "I'll take that as a compliment. But back to your question: I'm one of the three owners of a small enterprise. A Muggle would call us a research laboratory, I assume. We have three branches – Charms, Transfigurations and Potions – and our focus is on healing matters. Potion selling isn't a standard part of our business but in a small amount possible."

"And you're responsible for Transfiguration I assume?" On Agatha's short nod Hermione asked: "And what about Roxanne? Is she working there too?"

"No, to my regret she isn't interested in the occupation of a researcher. In the moment she's mostly lady and mother," Agatha smirked shortly "but I hope she'll return to her real vocation in a few years, after the graduation of Daphne and Astoria." Hermione still looked a bit puzzled and Agatha explained: "She's really awesome at the healing arts. The early birth of Daphne denied her the chance to finish her apprenticeship but I hope that she'll go on. Did you know that she's spending part of her time working through a distance learning class of Muggle medicine? Without the practical parts she'll never reach any degree but Roxanne is very interested in the theoretical part."

.

"You seem on edge, Harry," Hermione asked her friend after they left the inn. The information she just got about Roxanne was another proof of the differences between Roxanne and Cyrus Greengrass. Hermione felt totally clueless how Roxanne was able to endure a marriage with this kind of a man. Pure physical avoidance could be the only reason, the pure size of Pinegrew Manor working in her favor.

"Didn't you see them?" Harry asked back a bit grumbling. "Rita Skeeter was there in the taproom, sitting with some students." He sighed and was irritated obviously. "Ron and Ginny were at her table. This can't be good. Do you remember her last article she wrote about me?"

Hermione looked horrified. Yes, she remembered how Rita Skeeter had used the small interview after the Champions' selection to diffuse lies about Harry and his 'cheating'. Back then she had felt the urge to hit the woman with some nasty curses and that urge hadn't diminished since then. Luckily she was out of sight now. "Perhaps she's writing about me this time," she tried to joke.

Harry shook his head but at least a small smile crept on his face: "I hope not."

.

The group of Slytherins spelled trouble. To Hermione's relief the presence of the accompanying adults caused Draco and his cronies to act not too openly insulting but still …

Crabbe and Goyle were at his side, Theodore Nott glared at them, especially Hermione – his expression proving a bit the point Daphne had made about him an hour ago. And then there were Astoria, hiding a bit behind her fiancé but at least smiling a small smile at her mother and Grandma, and Pansy Parkinson with Millicent Bulstrode at her side.

Every boy wore one of those awful badges spelling 'support Cedric' that changed into 'Potter stinks' with a finger's tap. Naturally they did just that now, smirking broadly, apparently content with their intellectual achievement. Astoria had the dignity to hide her badge behind the collar of her robe while Pansy and Millicent seemed to be no part of this harassing. Millicent even snipped away some invisible dust from her robe to prove that there wasn't any badge hidden and shortly smiled at Daphne. The black-haired beauty reciprocated the smile and curtly nodded towards Pansy before she followed her mother again.

"I heard from Padma that he paid some Ravenclaws to fabricate those badges," Neville whispered. "A few of her housemates refused the idea but apparently he found someone who was willing to sell himself to that snake-git."

"Whoever fabricated them," Daphne said with a smirk, "should be careful. Idiocy is contagious." The smirk left her face as she looked back, her eyes searching for her sister.

"She's only wearing that badge to support her fiancé," Harry tried to soothe her inner turmoil. "Astoria showed her true colors very clearly in the Great Hall."

Daphne nodded weakly, the glimmer of tears in her eyes troubling Harry greatly. "I want my sweet sister back, without all those stupid Malfoy-ish ideas in her mind."

"I'll help you," Harry reassured her, his arm shortly slipping around Daphne's shoulders.

.

The groups had parted with the girls bending their steps towards the local book shop while the boys hoped to find something worthwhile in the Quidditch shop. Tonks, according to her task to protect Harry, was accompanying the boys and it was her face that was the target of Narcissa Malfoys' pondering stare.

Narcissa had just left the shop where she had been looking for another Christmas present as she nearly tumbled over the incoming customers. Her hands manicured, the blond hair in perfect order, the heavy cloak protecting her from the weather, the lady with a skin like a porcelain doll stared at her niece without the usual expression of someone biting a lemon. Harry had seen that look at the Quidditch finals and while he knew that she was a friend of Roxanne – not a very close friend but still a friend – he felt himself unable to separate Narcissa Malfoy from the rest of her family. Lucius had nearly killed Ginny two years ago and Draco was the greatest prat at school. How could Narcissa be bearable with those men in her family?

"Hello Mrs. Malfoy, happy to meet you," Neville greeted her, trying to break the uncomfortable silence with some polite words.

With a start Narcissa turned around and showed a polite smile: "Hello Mr. Longbottom. I hope your Grandmother is feeling well."

"She's sprightly as usual, thank you for your concern," Neville bowed slightly.

Narcissa responded with a small nod: "Please present her my compliments." Shortly she glared at Harry: "Mr. Potter" before she walked away, not without staring at Tonks again. For a short moment Harry was amazed to see a hint of sorrow and grief in her eyes but certainly he was wrong about that. Malfoys didn't grief.

"She's you're Aunt, isn't she?" Harry asked, trying to grasp the emotions emitted by the haughty lady.

"She is," Tonks whispered her tone a mix of anger and regret. "She and mother … they were immensely close at school until mother's last year. Bellatrix had always been a bitch but mother had hoped …" Her voice lost all strength.

"If Tonks' mother had been disowned," Harry asked the bald Sirius, "can't you change that back, bring her back into the family?"

Sirius thoughtfully rubbed his chin: "Basically yes. With my brother dead as well as my parents and the parents of the Black sisters I'm the last male member of my family. But I would have to claim my title as Lord Black and I can't do that without presenting me to the Wizengamot. Sorry, Harry … Tonks, I can't do that before clearing my name."

Tonks sighed: "And that we can't do without proof. We really need Pettigrew, preferably alive."

"I can't understand how a family with members like both of you and Tonks' mother can produce other children like Bellatrix and Narcissa," Harry muttered.

"Narcissa isn't bad," Sirius objected. "In reality she had been my favorite cousin back at school. That only changed after Andro and I left the family. I'm certain she's still missing her sister. Narcissa had been reared to always follow the commands of her parents and is incredible loyal to her family. With seventeen she simply wasn't strong enough to go against their will. And don't forget: Andro had at least Ted at her side, Narcissa would have been alone. And while the marriage with Lucius certainly could be happier, she apparently adores her son. That makes her a person with a horrid taste but not a bad person per se."

.

In the meantime Agatha, Roxanne, Daphne and Hermione had reached the bookshop and within minutes had lost all sense of time, immerging themselves into all kind of books. While the adults had started to speak about some Transfiguration books, Daphne had detected a tome about Arithmancy and presented it to Hermione. For a while they exchanged their opinions in whispered sentences, when Daphne noticed that her friend was apparently thinking about something else.

"Spill," she whispered. "You've been thinking about something since we left the Inn."

Hermione slowly nodded but stayed silent for a while, trying to make up some sensible sentences instead of babbling incoherently what troubled her: "Your mother said something about Pansy, about 'buying her out' to get the marriage contract. Is this usual – to pay for the right to arrange a marriage?"

"It depends," Daphne responded with a sweet smile. "As far as I know in the Muggle world you have the system of giving a dowry, too, am I correct? With the Pureblood families it is similar but more … legitimized and formalized. Depending on the family status of groom and bride the families arrange the welfare of the pair. In families with more than one children it is important too, whether you're the first-born or not. Draco is the first-born and single child of the Malfoys, a political very important and filthy rich family. His inheritance will be extensive so his father – I suppose – only had to offer an appropriate Manor and a yearly allowance.

"Astoria on the other side is the second born. Normally her bride price would have to be enormous, especially with several other families offering too. In most cases the second born only gets a small inheritance, so the bride's father had to endorse with a large sum upfront. A part would be paid at the date of the engagement, the greater rest one week before the marriage."

"You said 'in most cases'," Hermione interjected. "Is Astoria a special case somehow?"

"Yes, she is," Daphne nodded. "My parents altered the original marriage contract. While my father hasn't much to say about my decisions regarding marriage or career, the reverse can be said about my sister. And while I'll still receive a larger part of the inheritance, my sister will get around one third of the whole sum, much more than usual. I assume that my father showed Lucius that contract to lower the sum he had to offer."

"About what kind of money are we speaking?"

"The engagement sum had been 30,000 Galleons and he'll have to pay additional 100,000 Galleons at their marriage."

"Phew!"

"I have to admit that I was astonished to hear that Lucius was content with these sums. I had expected them to be higher. My father must be closer to him than we thought. And I was amazed that the Parkinsons weren't able or willing to outbid father. Perhaps they aren't as wealthy as they pretend to be."

For a while they sat in silence, before another thought crossed Hermione's mind: "If this inheritance splitting is so unusual, why was your mother willing to do this?"

"You have to understand that the magical matrimonial law is very patriarchal. It is very unusual to allow a mother complete right of determination about a child and even more it is unusual to allow a girl free choice about career and husband in our society. She had to offer him something substantial to get his consent to this contract.

"This is one of the reasons I was as against your Weasel-crush. He would have expected that you turn into a second Molly Weasley; he would have expected that you'll stay at home. No job, no career, no further learning, only home sweet home." As Hermione tried to say something against this, Daphne interrupted her: "You don't understand, do you? You wouldn't have a say in the matter. The usual marriage contracts allow a husband to determine where they'll live and he has the right to cancel any job of his wife he doesn't approve."

"That's …"

"… medieval? Yes, it is. But it is the usual. I had this discussion with Tracey too a year ago. It is irresponsible by the school administration not to inform the Muggleborn and Halfblood witches about this important part of our law. Most witches don't even think about writing down a special marriage contract and with divorce very complicated …"

"So, I'll have to be really careful."

"Absolutely. I'm quite certain that Neville would be willing to divert from those regulations but with his Grandma in the background …"

"Hohoho," Hermione stopped her friend, her cheeks blushing. "We're not even dating. He not even invited me to the ball and you're already speaking about marriage."

"Only in theory, Hermione, only in theory" Daphne responded but her all-too sweet smile told Hermione something quite different.

.

"Who'll be your date at the Ball," Neville asked while he was forced to stay still and allow the tailor to do some last adaptions to his formal robe. They all had met at 'Gladrag's Wizardwear' to buy robes and dresses for the upcoming ball. Agatha and Tonks went with the girls into the next room while Sirius and Roxanne did their best to find something passable for the young gentlemen. Now they were unobtrusively listening to their banter, struggling to hide their smiles.

"I don't know," Harry sighed. "I wanted to ask Cho but she already said yes to Cedric. And I assume she would have said no nonetheless."

"She's still angry about your participation in the tournament?" Neville asked with a frown. He felt it hard to understand that anyone could believe Harry would willingly risk his life in this tournament. If Cho belonged to those crazy birds, then Harry was far better off without the Ravenclaw girl.

"Yes," Harry sighed again and grimaced. "I really tried to calm them, even announced my support of Cedric and said that in my eyes he is the real Hogwart's Champion, but still …" Harry punched the wall at his side and shrugged apologetically as he noticed Roxanne's frown. He was allowed to lose his temper from time to time, wasn't he?

"You should ask Daphne," Neville suggested. Harry's reaction was the same as with Daphne two hours ago but this time Neville was prepared and able to sound total at ease as he continued: "You could go as friends. And with the Champions doing the opening dance you'll need someone at your side able to hide your lack of talent."

He was even able to grin and for a second Harry wondered where to the shy boy had vanished he had known the last three years. "I'm quite able to dance without someone to cover up, thank you very much."

Neville only continued to grin. After a minute of silence he asked: "And? When will you ask her?"

"Argh, don't push me," Harry groaned. With narrowed eyes he tried to drill holes into his friend's head with his death-glare. Suddenly he relaxed and his sweet smile troubled Neville: "And when will you ask Hermione? You know that she even refused Viktor Krum's invitation? I think she is waiting for something … or better for someone."

If Harry had expected his friend to back down he was in for a surprise. With a serious face Neville announced: "Today, I'll ask her today … if you ask Daphne too."

_Why had he this feeling of being trapped_, Harry wondered. _Because I am trapped_, Harry answered his own question with a groan. "Alright, I ask her – only as friends and only for the reason that you ask Hermione too."

"Certainly," Neville smirked. "Today," he said emphasized.

"Today," Harry groaned.

.

"Roxanne?" Harry was sitting beside her, a cup of tea in his hand and quite exhausted after endless hours of tailoring.

"Yes?" She responded, apparently relaxed and happy that this ordeal was nearing its end. Harry and Neville were well supplied with formal robes; Hermione had found a wonderful dress and even Daphne only needed a few last touches to the pearl-colored evening gown she had chosen. Her daughter had chosen well. The gown allowed her enough legroom for dancing and the color suited her eyes and contrasted wonderful to her hair. It was a strapless one with only a single strip of cloth around her neck. Silvery shoes and long gloves complemented the outfit. Harry hadn't seen it and Roxanne smiled inwardly about his expected reaction at the ball.

"I have a little request. I want to buy some presents but …" Harry hesitated. Should he really ask her?

"Spill!"

"Would you lend me some money? I'll repay the sum in the next months from my allowance."

Roxanne shortly frowned but nodded. "Why not? I'm only a bit surprised that your Christmas allowance isn't enough. I hope you don't plan something too extravagant," she grinned.

Harry looked a bit puzzled: "Christmas allowance? What are you speaking about?"

Now it was Roxanne's turn to be confused: "Christmas allowance … as in allowance for Christmas … extra money to buy Christmas presents. That kind of Christmas allowance I speak about."

"Pardon? I'm sorry; I really don't know what you mean. You lost me completely."

"Harry," Roxanne started to explain, speaking slowly and clearly. "You get a monthly allowance from your tutoring account, correct? And a part …"

"Moment," Harry interrupted her. "What tutoring account do you mean? I only get a monthly allowance of 10 Galleons from Minerva and I'm quite sure it is her personal income she uses to pay me the money. She started to do that after I told her last year that the Dursley don't pay anything."

Roxanne shortly stared consulting at Sirius before she responded in a determined manner: "This … you must be wrong. I had been there. I visited Gringotts with your Mom, two months after Daphne birth. We both opened the usual tutoring accounts to pay for Hogwarts and your school equipment. Part of the account is an arrangement for an allowance. You should have – like Daphne – a monthly allowance of 50 Galleons. Additionally you should receive 200 Galleons at the first of November for Christmas presents. You've never heard about that?"

In stunned silence Harry was only able to shake his head.

After a long silence Roxanne harrumphed and decided: "You'll get the money you need and around Christmas we'll visit Gringotts. I have the foreboding that there is something badly amiss."

.

"Neville, that wand of yours," Roxanne asked the boy who sat across of her at the table in the 'Three Broomsticks Inn', "am I right about this being the wand of your father? I think I remember the shape and color."

The day was nearing its end. All shopping done; the feet heavy and the purses empty, now it was time for a last small snack before they parted ways. Sirius would go into hiding again, Tonks return to her duty, Roxanne would apparate to Pinegrew Manor and Agatha already told them that she would accompany them back to Hogwarts to have 'a small chat with an old friend'.

"Yes, it is," Neville responded, his hand caressing the old wand. "My Grandma wanted me to use it as a token of respect to my father. Perhaps she hoped that through the wand I'll somehow inherit his talents too." His expression was bitter now and Hermione remembered how often Augusta Longbottom had criticized her grandson because of his low marks. It was very unfair in her mind. Neville was talented, he only needed more self-confidence and his Grandma was certainly not helpful in that regard.

Roxanne's thoughts run in another direction. Often family members were able to use the wands of relatives; the closer they were in blood and character the better it worked. But still the best solution was a wand chosen individually. Daphne and Hermione had told her about Neville's problems at school and now she wondered what part this wand had in this.

But before she had a chance to speak about it, the door opened. Narcissa Malfoy with her son in tow entered the inn, stopping instantly as they noticed the group around Harry. Again this weird look crept onto Narcissa's face, this mix of sorrow and regret, her eyes fixated on Tonks. Roxanne pondered about this reaction and the odd behavior Narcissa had shown since the summer break. Something was really troubling her but until now Roxanne hadn't been able to talk about it with her friend. She really liked the youngest Black sister, her humor and intelligence. _If only she could get lost of her asshole of a husband_, Roxanne mused.

"They really allow all kinds of riff raff into Hogsmeade nowadays," Draco drawled, "Mudbloods, Blood traitors and other scum."

He smirked broadly, his expression turning into confusion when his mother scolded him: "Behave, Draco, this kind of languages is not appropriate. And don't use this word again. You don't have to imitate your father in every way."

"But Mom," his mood didn't really improve as he noticed the grins of Harry and Hermione. Narcissa only glared icily at her son and waved him to take a seat at a free table at the rear of the inn. With Draco gone, mumbling insults on his way, Narcissa didn't follow him instantly. Instead she stared in turns at Roxanne, Agatha and Tonks. Her former expression of regret returned and with the smallest of sighs she turned away as Roxanne called her: "Cissy, may I introduce to you Miss Nymphadora Tonks? She is a very talented Auror and ordered to watch over Harry as one of the four Champions at the tournament."

_React, say anything_, Sirius prayed. With his mask he was unable to act and he wasn't really expecting Narcissa to say something nice. Yes, she had scolded Draco but certainly that was only because it was impolite to speak like that in publicity. Even without having Bellatrix' insanity or Druella's stubbornness Narcissa at least seemed to share their opinions about blood purity. According to Andro the sisters hadn't spoken with each other since twenty years. How could Roxanne hope that …

"Nice to meet you," Narcissa's voice was coarse, the words shocking everyone apart from Roxanne who looked quite pleased and smiled an approving smile at Narcissa. Lady Malfoy again started to go away, stopping after two steps. Without turning towards Tonks she added: "Please give Mrs. Tonks my best wishes." Her words nearly caused Tonks to faint and Sirius paled, completely unable to comment what just happened. Without waiting for a response Narcissa walked away, leaving the group to their own thoughts.

.


	18. Chapter 18 The first Task

_**A/N**_

_I just found a very interesting summary of all the small and big plot holes in the Harry Potter story and an equally well written description of Headmaster Dumbledore and his actions. Please have a look at the profile of __**ARedHair**__ to read it._

_Nearly 7k words in this chapter, but I didn't want to split the chapter about the task._

**.**

**The first Task**

_Hogwarts – 24th of November_

.

The heavy fabric of the large Champions' tent at least dampened the noises coming from the tribune were hundreds of spectators were waiting for a spectacle. _All students would be there_, Harry mused, _many parents, journalists, Ministry officials and a score of Aurors under Amelia Bones' command_.

The boy-who-lived sighed deeply, trying hard to calm his nerves. Jitters wouldn't be really helpful out there facing a dragon with four inch teeth and an 'Uncle Vernon mood'. The past few days had been exhausting and nerve-racking. It all started in the evening after their Hogsmeade trip. Hagrid had invited Harry to accompany him – hidden under his father's cloak – when he made a walk through the forest with Madam Maxime at his side. The sight of the huge man with the equally tall but much more slender woman walking beside him had been odd. _No, it had been peculiar … eccentric … special_. Harry pondered how Daphne would call that sight.

She had tried her best to teach him not only how to dance but also manners and expression during the last weeks. It had been not only in preparation of the ball but also in the hope that he would accept the adoption. _To learn manners, how to behave and express in society_, she explained once, _is never time wasted. You may decide to ignore manners, but at least you have to know them. It is like the difference between being dumb and playing dumb_.

To his surprise he had even liked those lessons, liked to behave as a gentleman around the girls – at least from time to time – and enjoyed that one meal he had used to compare the wizarding eating habits he just learned with the Muggle ones Hermione showed him. Perhaps it was the simple fact that he enjoyed those hours because he spent them with Daphne.

Before he had time to follow that string of thoughts, cheering erupted outside and Harry heard Ludo Bagman's voice – enhanced by a Sonorus spell – as he explained the task to the spectators. He had done the same an hour ago to the Champions. It had simply been a formality because every Champion already knew. Harry had been terrified as he saw the dragons and listened to Hagrid explaining to Madam Maxime that they would have to snatch an egg under the dragons' claws. With Karkaroff too sneaking around the Dragon tamers' camp only Cedric needed to learn about the task. Harry had told him out of fairness and since then their relation had relaxed visibly. Perhaps at least a few of the students would alter their behavior now. Harry didn't really expect it but he dared to hope.

Knowing the task had only been the first step. Much more difficult had been to think about a usable tactic. It had hardly been a surprise that the girls spent the greater part of the Sunday in the library, searching for information about dragons. In the meantime Neville had done something that clearly told how much time he had started to be around Hermione. Harry had struggled hard to suppress a snigger as Neville fetched some parchment and began to draw some charts, listing every spell Harry knew, marking with colors how helpful they thought them to be and marking how well Harry was able to cast them. When the girls returned from the library with scores of notes, Hermione had been impressed and Daphne amused.

But in the end it wasn't enough. Sure, they had made up some tactics but every single one was unusable in the end:

Blinding the dragon or put him to sleep – Harry didn't know the spells and even if he did, he wouldn't trust them to be powerful enough to break the natural resistance of dragons against magic.

Hiding himself – Harry again didn't know any usable disillusion spell and certainly he wasn't allowed to use his cloak, even if he would be willing to show every student around that he owned such a magical artifact.

Distract the dragon – they had thought about summoning a controlled light wisp or turning something into an animal to have a distraction. But Harry only knew spells to create fixed lights and create small animals. Something like a toad wouldn't be really helpful and a dove would be too uncontrolled.

They had been really depressed. Now the age difference really showed its ugly head. Certainly each of the other Champions knew more than one of those spells Harry and his friends had thought about and he had learned not a single one.

In the end it had been Hermione who found a way. Hermione of all people, Hermione who hated flying and only this year had learned to at least be safe on a broom had thought about a tactic that was not only usable against a dragon but also achievable. Harry would use the Accio spell to call his broom and evade the dragon long enough to distract him, entice him away from the clutch of eggs to allow him a fast pass to snatch the golden egg.

With the tactic ready now he had only to learn the spell and just that he did the next days. Every day after the lessons Daphne spent hours and hours with him, explaining to him very careful and patient how to cast the spell. With her greater grasp of charms and greater talent for explaining it had been only natural that she would assume that role. In the meantime Hermione and Neville had started a little project to weave some fire protection spells into his robe. They certainly wouldn't protect him from a direct hit but every small bit would be helpful.

.

The tent square at the entrance flapped as a number of students entered. The committee had allowed a small number of friends to visit the Champions to wish luck and hug them a last time. French and Russian sentences intermixed, making it difficult to understand a single word. Dark-headed Durmstrang students behaved very manly around Viktor, while a number of mostly blond Beauxbatons tried to play happy around Fleur. The most unusual guest certainly was her little sister. Gabrielle, only ten years old, struggled hard to be brave and forget that there was a dragon who wanted to hurt her beloved sister. In contrary to her older sister Gabrielle had returned Harry's smile, happy to see someone nearer her age than all the other students around in the tent.

A few Hufflepuffs wished Cedric luck as the last group of guests arrived. The three Gryffindors hesitated for a moment at the entrance. Harry was more than a bit surprised to see Ron among them. His former best mate had clearly shown this morning that he still didn't believe Harry; that he still thought of him as an attention-whore. _What is he doing here_, Harry mused? _Certainly he doesn't want to wish me luck_.

Instead of walking towards Harry, he only sneered in Harry's direction and went to Cedric. He circled around Viktor and Fleur on his way. Harry assumed that Ron avoided Viktor because of the friction the Durmstrang had caused as he invited Hermione to the Ball. Harry wasn't sure about whether Ron was angrier about the invitation itself – implying that she was obviously so unattractive that the only possible reason Viktor would want to be with her was to get an advantage over Harry in the tournament had been only the latest insult – or Hermione's refusal of the offer. Hermione had refused Ron's invitation too and that had been the last straw, the last hit to his ego after Fleur's not very kind declination a week ago.

Hermione watched Ron's childish behavior and sighed. She had relinquished any hope to bring Ron to his senses but it still hurt to see this side of him. That Ron would willingly enter the tent only to hurt Harry's feeling was even more than his usual prat-ness. For a moment anger boiled in her stomach as she thought about Headmaster Dumbledore. Against Professor McGonagall's wishes he had sent Ron and Ginny into the tent, obviously trying to better the relationship. _It won't work_, Hermione thought with a smirk.

Ginny on the other side behaved totally different. Sending her broadest smile Harry's way she run to his side and hugged him heartily. A bit uneasy about this behavior Harry returned the embrace much less enthusiastic and wondered: "Where are Neville, Luna and Daphne?"

He had really hoped to see his friends before he had to battle the dragon, would have preferred their presence to the Weasley visit. Harry felt how Ginny tensed in his arms before she responded in pretended cheerfulness: "Headmaster Dumbledore only allowed a small number of visitors – only your dearest friends."

_Dearest friends_, Harry mused, _I certainly wouldn't call Ron my dearest friend at the moment_. _And about Ginny I'm not sure_. He struggled not to show his disappointment and even smiled weakly. Apparently it was enough for Ginny, who started to babble about the task, that her whole family would be observing and how certain she was that Harry would be the most formidable Champion. The whole time she tried to snake her arm around Harry's waist and stay in his personal space.

Hermione kept her distance and looked quite unhappy. In the past weeks she had started to show her discontent about Ron's stupid behavior and – as far as Harry had noticed – was equally unhappy about Ginny, her former best female friend. "It is good to see you, Ginny," he tried to sound happy while he exchanged looks with Hermione. "You at least believe me, unlike your brother."

Again she tensed, but showed a smile, even if it looked not very convincing: "He's a prat."

_She hasn't confirmed my statement_, Harry realized. Before Ginny had the opportunity to change the subject he grabbed her arms and locked eyes. "Do you believe me, Ginny?"

"Look, Harry," she answered. Ginny averted her eyes, proving his fears. "It isn't important. You deserved to be here. You're the best. You'll win the tournament. Dumbledore should have selected you to be the Champion of Hogwarts." At least she sounded sincerely but it certainly wasn't the answer he had hoped for, it wasn't the answer Hermione or Luna would have given him … or Daphne. The difference was still incredible: Ron who had deserted him instantly and Hermione who only needed a single look into Harry's eyes to believe him. He had felt bad about how he had preferred Ron's side in many quarrels in the past. _That Hermione is better able to handle rejection than Ron is hardly an argument for choosing the wrong side_, Harry pondered guiltily.

"How can you say that, Ginny," Harry shoved her away and raised his voice. "Hogwarts Champion is over there, his name is Cedric." Now he was loud enough to call everyone's attention and every other conversation died down. "I had hoped you at least would believe me; understand that I don't want to be here." He was really disappointed. Harry wasn't sure: _was it more despicable not to believe him or to be ok with cheating_?

Ginny stepped nearer again, tried to soothe him, but Harry raised his hand to signal the girl to stop. "No, Ginny, it's not good. I don't belong into this tournament. I would leave this second if I could and if you're unable to understand this …"

Harry pointed towards the task area outside: "Do you really assume that I like the idea of battling a full-grown dragon? Do you think I'm crazy enough to take part in this willingly and voluntarily? I'll share a secret with you, Ginny: I'm not." Contrary to Harry Hermione saw the reactions of the other Champions, saw the dawn of comprehension and trust on their faces. Harry's words, coming from the depths of his heart, were very convincing – at least to every non-Weasley. _Even hammer and chisel wouldn't be able to chip away Ron's stubbornness, _she sighed.

Again Harry stepped aside to avoid her renewed embrace. Hermione put herself between them, ignoring the glare Ginny sent in her direction. "Perhaps," Harry's voice now was far more depressed than a few minutes ago. "Perhaps we should put a bit of distance between us, at least for a few weeks; to give you time to think about all this."

"No," Ginny shook her head vehemently, her face pale, her ear tips flaming. "No, you can't … I'm your friend, Harry. I believe you, really. You're my …" Pleadingly she looked at Harry: "You're meant to win this task. And afterwards you'll ask me to be your date for the Yule Ball." _Apparently she had planned this through thoroughly_, Hermione snickered.

Harry paled. _Go to the ball with Ginny? Where did this idea come from? I half-heartedly pondered about asking Cho and perhaps Hermione but never Ginny. And now everything had changed at Hogsmeade_ …

.

_Five days ago at the Three Broomsticks_

Since Narcissa Malfoy had left the table, the group had been very quiet. Everyone was occupied with his or her own thoughts and especially Tonks was shaken by the experience. She knew how much her mother missed her younger sister, how often she stopped her speech mid-sentence when another memory of happier times crossed her mind. Tonks had grown up with the certainty never to see any Black family member without being hurt by their hate and disgust. Six weeks ago she met Sirius for the first time again. And now … could it really be? Could there be a chance? Tonks didn't dare to hope. She wouldn't tell her mother, wouldn't risk to hurt her with false hope.

"Daphne?"

Everyone looked up as Harry broke the thoughtful silence with a small voice. He obviously tried hard to appear calm and controlled but Hermione felt the small shudder. She put her hand above his and pressed it gently. A weak smile showed Harry's gratitude before he continued, his eyes resting on Daphne's lips instead of her eyes.

"I thought about something."

For a moment Hermione feared that Daphne would say something funny, an interruption that could be disastrous to Harry's wrought-up feelings. But luckily the black-haired girl seemed to feel it too and stayed silent, went so far to look down at the interwoven hands and not at Harry's eyes to not increase his nervousness.

"I realized that this adoption would influence you too, very much in fact. Before I accept Roxanne's offer, I wanted to ask you … would you be okay with this whole … adoption thing."

Hermione sensed how Harry's hand tensed. He was ready to bolt away should Daphne say something negative. Sometimes he could be really annoying with this whole hero-complex. Harry would deny himself this second chance of happiness only to avoid hurting Daphne's feelings. To his left Roxanne was unable to suppress a small sigh and the bald Sirius was grinning broadly.

Daphne stayed silent for a very long time, long enough to enhance Harry's stress level immensely. Hermione had to enforce her grip, her knuckles white, to prevent his flight.

"I don't know, Harry," Daphne suddenly said in a nonchalant manner. "You're really bad for my reputation. You see … I'm already spending an awful amount of time with crazy Gryffs … reading and such things … sometimes even smiling. I had hoped to have a break at home at least; else Tracey will certainly start to recolor my robes. And red is certainly not my color, you have to admit."

She sighed very deeply, shortly glancing in her mother's direction, which sent a mix of glaring and smiling her way. "On the other hand mother seems to like the idea of helping you on your way. And we all know how much you need any help you can get to overcome your deficits. And as mother had always proven with me, she's really good at rearing hopeless cases …"

Sirius, Roxanne and the others were grinning so broadly that it slowly hurt. Harry relaxed after some shuddering breaths and smiled a bit exhausted: "So it's a yes? You are okay with this …?" He made a vague gesture.

"Yes, yes, it's a yes," she tried to sound annoyed. As everyone started to explode with congratulations, Daphne interrupted with a rest of dignity. "But remember: You're only a homeless lion cub we agree to give shelter. Don't expect me to call you brother or such nonsense."

"No, I would never dare to do say," Harry responded under the suppressed snickers of the group. "Would be way too awkward, especially … especially as I wanted to ask you …"

At Hermione's other side Neville tensed and while she had no idea why he reacted this way, Harry knew it and drew courage from the fact that his question would force his best mate to ask out his best friend.

"Would you go with me to the Yule Ball … as a friend? Or perhaps you could come out of kindheartedness and to prevent that Harry Potter-Pinegrew looks too stupid on the dance floor."

"Oh," the question, while not totally unexpected, left Daphne speechless for a minute. At last she was able to answer in a more or less calm way: "I already allowed you living with us. Now it would be a bit hypocrite to refuse this invitation. And with a bit of guidance your dancing abilities are not too awful."

.

_Present – Champions' tent _

Roxanne had agreed with Harry on preparing the formalities until Christmas and signing the papers in the winter break. He was still struggling with the idea of being adopted, of never returning to the Dursleys again. Nobody knew so far about his decision aside from Hermione, Neville and Luna. Even Professor McGonagall was still in the dark to prevent her from being in the dilemma to stay silent or tell Dumbledore about it. He trusted her nearly as much as Hermione did and way more than Daphne was willing to, but Harry didn't want to put her into a precarious situation.

"Ginny," Harry hesitated as he noticed that pleading puppy-look in her eyes. With a sigh he continued: "That's not possible. I already asked Daphne. We're going as friends, but still …"

"Oh," Ginny's voice trembled. The girl fought hard to suppress tears. Hermione saw Ron struggling with his temper, his face flaming red, his hands clenched. "That's okay," Ginny whispered. "I'll ask … I'll ask Neville. He's very nice, don't you think so?"

Harry was lost for words. Should he tell her? Should he stay silent instead of destroying another hope? "You know, Ginny," Hermione started hesitantly. "You have to know …"

.

_Five days ago at the Three Broomsticks_

"Why are you grinning like a Cheshire cat?" Daphne asked Harry, sounding annoyed. Since she had agreed to go to the ball with him, Harry had been grinning and looking expectantly in Neville's direction. And instead of Harry it was Neville who answered – in a way.

"Hermione," he whispered. Neville cleared his throat several times before he repeated: "Hermione? Would you accompany me to the Yule Ball?"

Harry's grin only broadened and he had to suppress giving Neville a thumbs-up sign. For a moment he was so happy that Neville had dared to ask her, for a moment – until he heard Hermione's answer. The girl smiled weakly but shook her head: "You don't have to, Neville. It's very sweet of you, but you should ask someone else." _What?_ Harry's mind struggled.

It was heart-breaking to see the disappointment and confusion in Neville's face. "But why …?"

Another very weak smile: "You look very handsome in your new robe, Neville. You can do better. You should ask some pretty girl. Certainly Padma would like to go with you as your date, instead of we going as friends." _She's thinking he asks out of pity_, Harry groaned inwardly.

For some very long moments they all went silent, all pondering about what to say, how to react. Then the explosion came in form of a red-faced, full-angry Neville. Glaring at Harry he shouted: "This is your entire fault, Harry, yours and Ron blasted Weaselbee's."

Harry stared in shock at his friend while the impression of Daphne's indignant "language, Neville" was diminished by her broad smile. Apparently Harry's 'sister' was really happy about Neville's flaring temper and his will to fight for his girl.

"It's all because of Ron's stupid remarks about choosing only the prettiest girl for the Ball," Neville continued. Harry remembered that conversation in the Gryffindor common room with Ron explaining to Dean and Seamus how to choose the Yule Ball date. With that speech alone he had ended any hope of having a Gryffindor girl going with him. Neville talked himself into a rage. "Both of you only ever speak about how intelligent she is, how brave and what a good friend. Have you ever paid her a compliment about her appearance? Hermione: stop seeing yourself as 'one-of-the-boys'. Stop this instant with that nonsense. You aren't an ugly duckling and you're certainly not a consolation prize."

All stared at him impressed by his speech, but somehow Neville was able to ignore them all as he grabbed Hermione's hand and continued a bit calmer: "I don't want to be there as your friend but as your date. It is certainly not pity why I ask. I like your mind and your heart; I like the whole Hermione-package. You have always been beautiful and this year you win over Padma every time. I would feel lucky if you'll …"

"Yes."

Neville stopped mid-sentence as he heard Hermione's answer. "Yes?" He asked with a coarse voice.

"Yes," Hermione said again, this time with a happy smile. "I would like to be your date at the Yule Ball."

Harry's joy was only diminished by the small amount of guilt he felt. Neville was right. Ron and he only ever spoke about Hermione's intellect and courage; they never really saw the girl, the young woman in her, who needed to hear something nice about her appearance from time to time. And Neville was right again about her look. With her new hairstyle and the corrected teeth Hermione was certainly more than a bit pretty.

"All this is way too much emotion for me," bald Sirius broke the mood. "Have we ever been that bad, Roxanne?"

Roxanne shook her head and opened her mouth as Agatha coolly interjected: "You were worse."

"Mother!" Roxanne glared, but was unable to hide her own smile.

Harry slapped Neville on the shoulder: "I knew you have it in you."

"T'was time," Daphne only added.

.

_Present_

"What?" Ginny stared dumbfounded. "Neville asked Hermione? Why would he do this?"

Before Harry had time to react, Ron added maliciously: "Pity. It's the only reason someone could ask her. Look at her. Nobody with eyes and taste would willingly ask her."

Harry hadn't to look at her, he could sense the tears glistening in Hermione's eyes as her insecurity returned. Before she had a chance to bolt away, he grabbed her arm: "He was right, Hermione – Neville I mean, not that read-headed prat. You are beautiful," he said slowly and emphasized. "I only forgot to tell you before, because it wasn't important to me. I adore your mind, but I love your heart. Your appearance is only a bonus for me. I'm really happy that Neville is more observant and that he was brave enough to ask you. You both will have a wonderful Yule Ball. Every boy will envy Neville."

Hermione flew into his arms and a bit awkwardly Harry patted her back: "Na-na, we don't want to make Neville jealous."

Hermione left his arm and punched his shoulder before she tried to wipe away the tears and show a smile: "Git."

At some time Ginny had left the tent and if Harry had wondered about Ron staying silent while the exchange, he now saw the reason. Viktor and Cedric passed him, dragging a silenced and spell-shackled Ron towards the exit and throwing him out, while a content looking Fleur stored her wand away again.

Champions had to hold together.

.

All guests had left the tent to allow Ludo Bagman to start the last preparations for the task. Hermione slowly walked along the tribune, her eyes not able to drag away from the first dragon that had been shackled to the center of the task area. The Swedish Short-Snout allegedly was a relative harmless type of a Dragon. Hermione couldn't believe it as she stared at the silvery-blue skinned creature. A single bite, a single sweep of his powerful tail would be enough to end Harry's life.

She walked past the group of redheads, returning Fred's smile but denying Molly's invitation with a weak shake of her head. The Weasley matriarch had been arguing with Ron and Ginny, both youngsters sending angry glares in Hermione's direction. Would it ever be as before?

Her mood improved as she saw Tonks and Remus. The former DADA professor was wearing proudly a brand new robe and looked stunning, even if he certainly needed a bit feeding up. But Hermione hoped that Tonks would take over that task willingly.

Roxanne was waving happily from her position at the healer's tent. She had used the opportunity to help her former trainer Madam Pomfrey. Daphne was at her side and nodded towards Hermione, trying hard to appear calm and confident. Hermione knew how much Daphne was in fear about the task, in fear about Harry being hurt, but only a friend or family member would be able to detect that emotion now.

"He'll be alright, Daphne."

Daphne only nodded and showed a weak smile.

"Shush," Roxanne sent the girls away. "Go looking for Agatha, we'll need our peace."

"My mother doesn't love me anymore," Daphne tried a weak joke.

"You can't blame her for that feeling," Hermione smiled and yelled as Daphne kicked her. "That's not very ladylike, Daphne," Hermione glared at her, only prompting the Slytherin to stick out her tongue. "Very mature," Hermione grinned, but hasted away to avoid further revenge.

.

The girls approached the small group around Agatha Pinegrew. For a moment they hesitated as they noticed Narcissa Malfoy, but then they greeted her: "Hello, Mrs. Malfoy."

Narcissa turned around. "Hello, Miss Greengrass." After a glare of Agatha she added with much less enthusiasm: "Hello, Miss Granger."

Draco, who was standing not far away with his cronies, glared at Hermione but didn't dare to insult the girl. At least Tracey and Blaise were there too. Hermione tried to ignore Draco and followed Minerva McGonagall with her eyes, as she went to the entrance of the task area. Cedric had just left the tent and tried to steady his nerves. _So he'll be the first_, Hermione thought, while she noticed how Minerva cast some spells on Cedric Diggory.

"She's casting some protection spells on the Champions," Agatha explained. "They only kick in if a Champion gets a direct hit. They should prevent grave injuries." Hermione relaxed a bit: _Apparently Dumbledore was willing to enforce the Champions' security_.

Narcissa's haughty disturbed her pleasant thoughts: "I'm happy to hear that Professor McGonagall was willing to follow your advice, Agatha. The death of a Champion would be … inconvenient." Hermione struggled not to say something about inconvenience, but she was far too happy now that a Pinegrew had again done something to protect her best friend.

Daphne and Hermione watched Cedric battle the dragon and they shared a smile as he chose a tactic they had pondered about. The Hufflepuff Champion transformed a stone into a dog and sent him towards the Dragon. The distraction was enough to allow Cedric to snatch the golden egg. With only a minimum of bruises he had finished the task and the girls cheered Cedric together with most of the spectators.

A grim voice surprised them as Ginny scolded: "Already betraying Harry and cheering the enemy?"

Hermione and Daphne glared at the redhead. They hadn't noticed that the youngest Weasley had followed them. Ginny's mood, already down because of Harry's rejection, had certainly not improved because of her mother's constant howling. Molly had more than once in the last months sent letters, urging them to intensify their friendship with Harry and drive Daphne away. Over the last weeks Ginny's hatred of her brother had increased more and more. _Couldn't he see how difficult her position was? Couldn't he try at least a little bit to support her?_ She was destined to be Harry's wife in a few years but fate could use some help on the way.

"You don't really understand him, do you?" Daphne asked with an angry voice.

"He tried to explain," Hermione said. "She didn't understand." Too exhausted to have a quarrel with the girl Hermione only added in Ginny's direction: "Go away!"

.

She felt relieved as Fleur's entrance disturbed the conversation. The Champion of Beauxbatons looked more like she intended to visit a gallery and not battle with a Dragon. Again she used one of the discussed tactics, proving again Harry's point about spells learned. Fleur needed a few tries to overcome the Dragon's resistance but at last the magnificent beast went to the ground, sleeping. All went quiet, staring intensely as Fleur sneaked up to the clutch of eggs, snatching the golden one. Just as everyone dared to breathe again, the Dragon breathed too in his sleep. A small cloud of flames engulfed Fleur, setting her robes on fire. Hastily she extinguished the fire with an Aguamenti spell and left the area.

"That looked simply enough," Hermione commented, not sure about her emotions regarding Fleur's easy victory.

But Daphne shook her head: "That spell is difficult, especially against magical creatures and a Dragon to add. The victory is well earned and I like the circumstance that she hadn't to hurt the Dragon."

Hermione agreed. While the dragon tamers prepared the third Dragon, Hermione and Daphne watched Fleur Delacour. The girl had left the area and now had a discussion with Madam Pomfrey. Apparently she didn't want the help of the school's nurse, for whatever reason. _Silly girl_, Hermione mused.

Just as Madam Pomfrey allowed Fleur to walk away, Roxanne jumped in. Hermione was too far away to understand everything but apparently was Roxanne's comment about possible scars convincing enough. "Scars are only attractive on a boy's skin," Daphne grinned and Hermione nodded with a smile. As Fleur followed Roxanne into the tent to allow her to tend her wounds with Dittany, Daphne and Hermione turned around and waited for Viktor Krum to enter the stage.

.

While Agatha and Daphne watched how Viktor fared against the third Dragon and Harry prepared for his own fight, they had no idea how interesting the conversation was that two male members of honorable and ancient houses had two dozen steps to the right.

Lucius Malfoy and Cyrus Greengrass had chosen a place apart from the crowd. A few glares had been enough to convince their friends that stepping nearer would be a bad idea. Lucius wanted to use the opportunity to speak with his ally, to assure himself that Cyrus was able to realize the importance of the situation.

"I've seen your dear wife working with the school nurse," Lucius began with a voice less haughty than usual. The interest of Lady Greengrass in the healing matters had been a sour spot in the past. While 'interest' wasn't bad per se, there had always been the chance of Roxanne starting to really work in that area. And working wasn't acceptable for a lady, that being the reason that Narcissa had never made use of her broad abilities especially in the area of potion making. A few lessons with Severus Snape from time to time were acceptable, but certainly not undergoing a full apprenticeship or real working.

"Yes," Cyrus sighed. "She's still thinking about finishing her training as a healer and working at St. Mungo. I convinced her so far to at least wait until our daughters are married. But I fear as soon as Astoria and Draco are married, she'll take the gloves off. I don't know what would be worse: Everyone thinking that we need the money or assuming that she's simply nuts."

"We'll work on that. Perhaps Narcissa could have a word with her." Lucius withhold his fear about in contrary Roxanne having a bad influence on Narcissa. Since the summer break his wife had increased her lessons and invested into a better laboratory. With the Black dowry at her command she had more than enough money to spend on her little spleen.

"That would be good. It is bad enough that she's still convinced to adopt that Potter boy." Cyrus groaned as he thought about the boy and the difficulties there had been with Astoria and Draco in the last months.

"Perhaps this adoption isn't so bad," Lucius declared to Cyrus' surprise. "Sure, he played an important part in the … in the disappearance … of the Dark Lord. But he was a baby back then and hardly responsible. On the other hand he is now a kind of idol, a flag to gather the Dark Lord's enemies around. To get him away from Dumbledore's clutches, to have a control over him, his opinions and political statements would be a coup unheard of."

"So this is the reason you wanted me to hold back in the past. I always wondered the reasons."

"Part of at least," Lucius agreed. "The other reason is his wealth. With his parents spending much money on the effort to help Dumbledore and to support war widows and orphans the Potter wealth should be diminished, but still Potter should be far from impoverished. With him adopted into the family and his friendship to your elder daughter there should be a way to lay your hands on his money. This would be another way to solve our little contract, don't you think so?"

Lucius' voice was calm and friendly but the last sentence held a bit of iron in it. It came hardly as a surprise to see Cyrus Greengrass flinch. Nobody else knew about the second, secret part of the marriage contract, nobody else than Cyrus and Lucius, not even their wives and children. And this was with good reason. Apart from several offers from other pureblood families the Parkinsons had offered the incredible amount of 50,000 Galleons up front and another 200,000 Galleons one week before the marriage. It was double the amount Cyrus had been able to offer for his younger daughter and with her smaller inheritance normally Lucius would have preferred Pansy as his daughter-in-law.

But Cyrus saw this as a golden opportunity. The Malfoys had been the politically most influential family in the last decade and he saw no hint that this could change in the near future. Aside from this they belonged to the hand full of most wealthy families. A marriage contract with the single heir would be an incredible success. As with every grand scheme a man had to risk something to achieve something. In this case he had to risk an amount of money he didn't really have. Luckily Lucius had been willing to trust Cyrus to hold his end of the bargain. If Cyrus didn't, not only would his daughter be without engagement but his social career would be at an end, his reputation destroyed.

300,000 Galleons – that was the sum he had to pay on Astoria's 17th birthday in addition to the official sums of 30,000 Galleons upfront and 100,000 Galleons one week before the marriage. There was no way his wife or his mother-in-law would be willing to give him the money and the Goblins at Gringotts would laugh into his face should he ask for a loan. His possibilities were small indeed but two years ago a flask of sherry and his dreams of grandeur had been enough to convince him, that this secret contract was a splendid idea.

Until this summer there had only been three ways to achieve his target. The first two included the deaths of his wife or his mother-in-law and the following inheritance. The last plan was around increasing Astoria's inheritance. This could be done through Daphne's death or a change of the family contract, something not likely to happen until now. But perhaps Lucius was right, perhaps Potter was the chance he had waited for. Around the adoption he could try to convince Roxanne to alter the family contract. Or he could stir Daphne into a marriage with Potter. Perhaps the sole fact of Potter belonging to the family would convince the Goblins to loan him the money. Yes, the adoption was a wonderful idea.

Cyrus sighed, far more relaxed than a few minutes ago: "You're right as always, Lucius."

Lucius nodded, happy that Cyrus was reasonable. With Cyrus fearing his wife and being terrified by his mother-in-law every other plan would be futile and while he didn't regard Cyrus as a close friend, he wouldn't like to destroy him. "Let's hope that the Dragon doesn't grill him."

.

"Breathe," Hermione tried to soothe Daphne's fluttering nerves. In a way she was happy that the Pinegrew girl was even more nervous than her, as this gave her the opportunity to think about someone else and not the lump in her own stomach. Viktor had blinded his Dragon and now the fourth and last one, simultaneously being the most fearsome, waited for his lunch. The black skinned Hungarian horntail was considered as the most dangerous dragon. His bronze barbed tail, giving the Dragon its name, was proof enough that his reputation was well earned.

Daphne nodded; her face pale enough to make it impossible to convince anyone that she didn't care for the small boy that now left the tent; greeted by a mix of cheers and boos. Slowly he wandered around the edge of the task area, staying well hidden behind some boulders. Harry wasn't willing to give the Dragon any chance to hit him with his fire breath, a weapon with an incredible 50 feet range as far as he knew.

Instead of rushing in Harry concentrated on the spell he had trained with Daphne. Blanking out the background noises he recalled the words and gestures, thought about the picture of his broom and casted the Accio spell as if sitting in a class room. At first nothing happened and the girls' nervousness increased. To know that the broom needed a while to arrive and to wait for it to happen were two totally different things. The spectators lost their patience and tried to propel Harry to do something, but the boy-who-lived – for the first time since long and certainly thanks to the influence of his friends – completely ignored them. He only smiled a bit and not even repeated the spell, simply trusting that he did it right.

Suddenly the broom was there, flying past the spectators and into the waiting hand of Harry. Under hundreds of cheers Harry started to fly around. Like planned he stayed well out of range, slowly tempting the Dragon away from the eggs. Nobody knew that Harry didn't see the Dragon waiting down there but Daphne in its place. Only yesterday they had trained how to dodge on the broom. Dozens of bludgers, send his way by a deadly accurate Daphne, tried to hit him. Charmed not to wound him, they certainly still hurt on impact and after three grueling hours Harry was glad that Markus Flint was dumb enough not to allow girls into his team.

It looked like child's play how Harry avoided the attacks and neither Professor McGonagall's shielding charm or Hermione's fire protection was necessary in the end. Daphne had to sit down as Harry landed with a broad smile on his face and the golden egg in his hand. He landed in front of the girls, the adrenalin of the flight still in his veins. While everyone was celebrating, even most of his former enemies impressed by his tactic and skill, Harry stepped towards Daphne, totally ignoring the grim expression on Ginny's face.

"Daphne, I thought about the ball. I think it is a bad idea to go as friends."

The confusion on Hermione's face, the disappointment of Daphne and the short impulse of Ginny's joy were short-lived as he continued. "Daphne, would you go to the Ball with me as my date?"

For a moment Daphne totally forgot her lady-like behavior and flew into Harry's arms. "I will."

Happy smiles of Agatha, Hermione, Neville and the other friends greeted the decision, but nobody saw the deeply hurt red-head as she run away.


	19. Chapter 19 Secondary Damage

_**A/N**_

_It is time for a little bitchiness again, following an idea of a review some weeks ago._

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**Secondary Damage**

_Hogwarts – still 24th of November_

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One by one the students and spectators had left the task area, left behind a barren tribune with only heaps of rubbish telling of the hundreds of people who had been there an hour ago. Daphne had left to visit her mother and Neville departed with a few fellow Gryffindors to prepare a little party. They had invited Harry to accompany him, but he had refused. Now at last they understood the danger; now they accepted that no mentally sane fourteen-year-old would willingly take part in the tournament. But Harry needed some time alone, more or less alone at least. Hermione was still there but she didn't count. She was his friend, his sister, she understood and trusted him. And – signs and wonders – she had learned to stay silent in the last months, to refrain from asking too many questions.

"Mister Potter?"

Harry turned around and stood up as he noticed Professor McGonagall standing there. "I wanted to congratulate you for your outstanding performance."

"Thank you, Professor, but a great part of the credit belongs to Hermione, Neville and especially Daphne. Without the help of my friends I hadn't been able to accomplish this."

Minerva granted him one of her rare smiles. "Your ability to choose the right friends is certainly one of your greater virtues."

Hermione and Harry stared at their House Mistress. Her approval of his friendship with Daphne was unexpected but more than a little appreciated. She hadn't said anything against the relationship so far but with Dumbledore not being restrained about his opinion and McGonagall so close to the Headmaster, Harry had feared that she would share his damnation.

Harry couldn't prevent his words from sounding accusingly as he asked: "Then why weren't Neville and Daphne allowed to visit me before the task?"

"It wasn't her decision, Harry," Hermione interjected. Quizzically Minerva stared at her favorite student. With a hint of blush Hermione shrugged: "I eavesdropped your conversation with the Headmaster. You both weren't particularly silent."

Now it was Minerva's turn to blush as she remembered how intensive her discussion had been. She had been furious when the Headmaster had denied Daphne Greengrass the right to visit Harry without any reasonable explanation. He had no right to interfere like that in the friendships of Harry Potter and his intentions to promote the relation between the boy-who-lived and the Weasley children were a bit dubious at best, dubious like many things he did around Harry.

"We weren't in complete agreement about the matter," Minerva confirmed. "But it was his decision to make. Apparently he assumes that it would be good for you to … restore your friendship with the Weasley family. You have been quite close to them for the last three years. And despite the twins tendency to cause mayhem they had been reliable in the past and good friends."

Harry stared at her, trying to read McGonagall's real thoughts about the family. _How close were they_? Harry wondered. He had never seen Minerva at the Burrows and despite the Weasleys being a traditional Gryffindor family he saw no similarity concerning their personality. He decided to make a shot in the dark.

"Yeah, they have always been a very orderly family."

He noticed how her pupils dilated. _Bingo_. She wanted to ask something, but suppressed the words.

"Yes, I know about it. I was told …" He left open who had told him about the Order but certainly Minerva was able to make the right conclusions.

"You shouldn't know …"

"Why not?" Hermione asked angrily: "Because the Headmaster wants Harry to be kept in the dark?"

Minerva flinched but Harry pressed the matter: "I've battled 'him' already thrice. The first time I survived because of the sacrifice of my mother, the other two times only because of my friends and Fawkes. With a bit of support, with a bit of knowledge …"

"Why, Minerva?" Hermione didn't realize that she used Minerva's first name despite someone else being present. "Why is Harry always left in the dark, why doesn't he get training if he's so important, why had he to live with that terrible family, against the will of his parents?"

Somewhat beaten and with a low voice Minerva answered: "I don't know, Hermione, I really don't know. The Headmaster doesn't discuss his decisions with me anymore, he makes them all alone. It had been like that for a while now. I didn't want to leave Harry with the Dursleys, didn't want him to return there every summer. I didn't know about how bad it was there, but I feared …"

"But you obeyed, Professor," Harry glared. "You always obeyed the Headmaster in all his decisions. You complained; you raged, but you never said: NO!" He calmed down a bit as Hermione gently pressed his arm and he even forced a small smile at her. "I obeyed him too for all these years, but you may know: I won't do that in the future. I'll make my own decisions from now on. I'll only listen to my friends in the future. And the Headmaster … I don't regard him my friend anymore. He has his eyes too much on his own agenda, has my wellbeing apparently not at the front of his mind."

Minerva stared at him in silence, unable to respond something sensible.

Harry breathed deeply a few times: "And you, Professor? Are you my friend?"

.

"We need some distance," Ginny growled and kicked another pebble away. Her steps were much more forceful than needed and her face resembled a stormy night. Ron was at her side but didn't say a word. Even he knew that it was unhealthy to disturb his little sister if she was in that mood.

"Aargh," Ginny yelled, clenching her fists and causing more than one Gryffindor to turn around and stare at her. They all were on their way back to the dorm and hastily avoided her eyes as Ginny glared at them. She was so furious. Harry belonged to her; it had always been like that. Her mother had read to her the stories of the boy-who-lived for years even before she saw him the first time, back then when Harry and Ron started Hogwarts. At the beginning it all went well. As ordered by their mother they had caught the moment at King's Cross to meet Harry and quickly Ron had been able to make friends with the lonely boy.

Hermione had been a little setback but apparently she wasn't interested in Harry in a romantically way. And in Ginny's first year, despite the ugly experience around Tom's diary, it had been not so bad in the end. Harry had saved her life and with her life debt towards him it was only natural that she tried to stay close. Hell, even Hermione tried to help for a while to get them closer to each other. For a year all went well, the progress was small but steady. Ginny had set her eyes on the Yule Ball and was ready to be Harry's girlfriend on Valentine's Day at the latest.

_Enter the bitches_, Ginny groaned.

The Greengrass bitches had crashed all her plans. The mother had started to court Harry, tried to fetch the place of his surrogate mother, a place that belonged to Molly Weasley for years. Invitations, holidays, family feasts and the traditional Christmas sweater – how could he forget all these signs of motherly love and simply turn to that black-haired cow?

Ron was certainly not helping. More than once Ginny had felt the dire urge to throttle her brother. He had annoyed Hermione, he had angered Harry. His envy had been enough reason for him to openly defy Harry after the Champions' choosing. Yes, he was right about Harry cheating his way into the tournament – that or someone like Dumbledore had intervened on his behalf. But had he to say it out loud? Couldn't he simply shut his mouth?

For a while he had been able to make friends with other Gryffindors, especially Dean and Seamus. But his further behavior, especially towards Hermione, had been enough to drive them away again. Even Ginny was disgusted how Ron behaved towards Hermione, how often he insulted her despite her help. How intensive must these feelings be for someone not belonging to the family? In the moment Ginny didn't knew a single student that wanted to be friends with Ron. Hell, even Cedric had showed quite openly what he thought about the red-head. Before the task was even over, everyone knew about the little scene that ended with Ron's expulsion from the tent.

Every setback had darkened Ron's mood and every darkening of his mood and foul language had only severed the situation. Ron could only break that circle through an honest and heart-felt apology – nothing he was able or willing to do.

Ginny was seething inwardly. She needed Harry. His fame, his wealth, his name – he was her ticket away from her family, her ticket from poverty. They were Purebloods but dirt poor and without any influence. Her father would never reach a position in the Ministry to gain fame and status. Perhaps Percy would be more successful with his boot-licking, but Ginny doubted it. He was far too dumb in choosing whom he supported, made too many enemies on his way. _Intellect is not all_, Ginny pondered.

At least he had been able to make his NEWTs, something that wasn't certain for her. The twins already spoke about ending the school prematurely and Ron … he was so dumb and lazy, Ginny didn't expect anything from him school-wise. And he was not even intelligent enough to understand that without Hermione's help he wouldn't even make his OWLs. _Ron, the great Quidditch professional – dream on_. He wasn't nearly talented enough for that. Only thanks to Harry's pleading he had got the position in the team. Even the Chudley Cannons would laugh into his face. No, without some kind of miracle he wouldn't make his OWL and Molly would find another solution for his future, perhaps a low paid job at the Ministry in Arthur's department.

And as if this wouldn't be bad enough: Ginny had no confused ideas about Ron and his envy. If he wasn't allowed to go to school after the OWLs he would rage and pout about Ginny being sent to school. Ginny wasn't a Hermione Granger or Padma Patil, but until now she had been well in her marks, far better than the twins and Ron. But he would complain about the money and in the end their parents would agree, that a girl didn't need NEWTs.

Her mother had never been employed, had always been mother and housewife. She expected Ginny to be the same and you didn't need NEWTs for that course of life. Money had always been rare in the Weasley home. Only Hermione's support of Ron's intellectual deficits and the prospect of Ginny being Harry's girlfriend and later fiancée would be enough to convince Molly to send Ginny to the school after finishing the OWLs, no matter how good a student she was.

.

While Ginny was pondering about her future, her chances to take her NEWTs and how unfair life had been, Ron stayed more or less silent too. Inwardly he groaned and grumbled, his ire targeted at the same person he had come to hate since summer break.

"_Why do I have to be friends with him_," Ron wondered. "_I can't really stand him and his constant attention-seeking. And now he turns everyone against me_."

Not only had Harry always had money and fame, the young witches at Hogwarts steadily trying to get near to him and even the teachers did all to make his life easier. Ron shuddered angrily as he remembered how Harry had been allowed to join the Quidditch team in the first year, Harry … not Ron. And this year, the first year with an open keeper position, with Oliver Wood gone Ron at last had the chance to join the team only to hear that this year there won't be any official games. _Unfair, unfair, unfair_, Ron growled, ignored by his sister. _It was Harry's fault somehow_, Ron was certain about that.

There would be unofficial games at least. The first had been against Hufflepuff and they had won 290:220. But instead of congratulating him, they all had only spoken about Ginny catching the golden snitch. It wasn't his fault that the Hufflepuff chasers had been better than Angelina and her comrades. No wonder that the new ream captain wouldn't see any fault in her play, that it had been 140:220 against Gryffindor before Ginny's catch. The girls simply had to try harder next time. Instead Angelina had demanded that he'll train more. As if he could.

With Hermione unwilling to do his homework, he had not as much time for playing as he wanted. Next year she better came back to her senses. He needed her help to reach reasonable OWL marks, while he concentrated on his career. While everybody else went to the library, he would train as never before. He would show them all what kind of player he was and after the OWLs he would join his dream team, the Chudley Cannons. For a moment pictures of team captain Ronald Weasley leading the Cannons to the Championship crossed his mind and a happy smile played around his lips.

.

"Ron?"

A small hand, a forceful slap to his head, brought Ron back from his day dreaming.

"What was that for?" He growled, but Ginny was hardly impressed and simply entered the Gryffindor common room. A few other Gryffindors were already there; Dean, Seamus and Neville among them, preparing the party to celebrate Harry's performance, to welcome him back into the embrace of his house mates.

The happy smiles and playful banter were enough to make Ron's blood boil again. Never had they done something similar for him. Why not? He could have done this dragon-egg-thing quite the same. He wanted a party for himself, he deserved it.

Ron didn't notice his sister crossing the room. Her anger was rising even more. The thought of Harry's success at the task only reminded her of the event afterwards, how he asked that bloody cow to be his date. It was horrible enough that Harry had asked the Greengrass girl to accompany him to the ball instead of her. Certainly it had been out of some stupid idea of obligation to her family, because nobody else would invite that bloody slut. But then he had the nerve to ask her to be his date … his date. Ginny felt like screaming at the top of her lungs.

Shoving Colin Creevey aside – the boy had tried to make some snapshots of the preparations – Ginny marched with thundering steps towards the staircase to the girl's dorm. While she ascended the steps, the picture of Daphne played amok in her mind. Her smile teased her, her long hairs invited to be pulled off. How much would she love to smack away that stupid grin from that ugly face?

A small meow prompted Ginny to look up. On the railway near the top of the staircase a little bundle of fur was waiting. _Great!_ She had forgotten to feed him this morning because of the tournament. For three months she had been caring for that ugly beast – _many thanks_! Begging Balou stared at Ginny, his black fur … black … as _her_ hair.

Something snapped in the girl's mind at that moment, something was too much for her to control her anger any longer. The constant bickering of her mother, the scolding of the twins about Ginny's behavior towards Daphne, Harry's refusal despite all she had done for him. And then this blasted tomcat had the nerve …

An angry slap whisked the tomcat away from the railway, followed by an equally angry kick that sent him against the wall. Something snapped hearable in the tomcat, someone yelled her name. _Now she was in even more trouble_, Ginny mused, a red haze over her mind. It was the tomcat's fault that Harry would now hate her even more. Balou tried to stand up, but one of his legs seemed to be hurt. One of the boys tried to follow her, but the staircase sent him back, didn't allow a boy near the girls' dorm. In a dreamy state Ginny stepped near the tomcat and a bit around, a cruel smile on her lips.

_I'll show you_, she thought, _I'll show you all_.

A vicious kick hit the side of the tomcat, broke instantly some of his ribs, sent him flying through the room, six, eight yards away and down to the ground of the room. With a nerve-wracking smack he hit the floor and remained there lifeless. Ginny saw nothing of this really, her mind only on her hurting foot. Turning around as if nothing had happened she entered the girls' dorm and closed the door behind her.

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Daphne was sitting on one of the Hospital beds, thinking quite happily about the first task and reading in a book her mother had got from Madam Pomfrey. Not only had Harry succeeded following Hermione's tactic and with her training, he had done so without any bruises. Flipping the pages she decided that this book about organ injuries would be an interesting lecture for the winter break. Daphne didn't notice the content looks from Madam Pomfrey and her mother. Her mother was content because of the altered invitation to the ball as Harry's date. Perhaps it was time to tell the teenagers about the second contract. And Madam Pomfrey was content because she hoped that Daphne inherited her mother's talent for the healing arts.

Poppy belonged to the small circle of persons who knew about Roxanne and her hours helping a Healer in the poorer districts of London under the cover of Polyjuice. Poppy had always been impressed with the power of Roxanne's healing spells and had read in a few letters from her that Daphne had started her training a year ago under the cover of learning emergency spells in case of household incidents. That Cyrus was buying this cover story was only proof for his battiness, in Poppy's opinion.

Daphne had followed her mother and the school nurse into the Hospital where the ladies were speaking about some inventions her mother had learned about in her Muggle studies. More than once Roxanne had told her about all those medical gadgets Muggles used for diagnostics. Computed tomography had been especially interesting. _Astoria would have liked it_, Daphne thought with a hint of grief. With Daphne more interested in Muggle Art and Architecture, Astoria had always been quite fascinated with the technology. Unlike Arthur Weasley, a man they only knew by sight, the younger Greengrass girl wanted to know how they worked, wanted to understand the principles behind them.

Roxanne had always been very supportive of this and Astoria certainly knew more about electricity and electronic than an average Muggle teenager of her age. But all this had changed after her engagement to Malfoy. Trying to please the stupid prat she had stopped to read Muggle books and suppressed any further interest about the matter. This was another point in a long list of reasons to hate Malfoy.

Her mood must have been showing on her face, because her mother interrupted her thoughts: "Daphne, dear, something on your mind?"

Daphne sighed: "Malfoy. I was only thinking about Malfoy the prat."

For a moment Roxanne pondered about scolding her daughter for her language, but she kept her tongue, her opinion about the young Malfoy being simply too similar.

Just as Daphne wanted to turn her attention towards the book again, the door to the Hospital opened and someone walked in. Daphne interest about the visitor turned to full-fledged horror as she realized that it was Neville Longbottom who entered the hall with a stony face. At his side walked Ciddy, a large cushion hovering in front of the petite house elf with the broken and bloodied form of _something_ that Daphne recognized as Balou only because of the color of his fur. Gently Neville put the cushion on a bed and looked begging at Madam Pomfrey. "We didn't want to apparate with him," he whispered, before he thanked Ciddy for her help.

Instantly Roxanne started to cast a complicated spell and above the tomcat a three-dimensional picture appeared, showing his bone structure and his organs in different colors, making visible a large number of injuries.

"What's that?" Poppy asked, impressed by the spell and the knowledge she got about this patient. Instantly she realized the benefits of having such a spell handy, especially when more than one Healer was working on a patient.

"It is a spell I researched with the help of one of mother's colleagues. I copied something Muggle Doctors use since a few years. I found a description in a book and thought it could be helpful."

"It's terrific. You should publish this spell. I know some Healers at St. Mungo who would kill for a spell like this."

"I know," Roxanne sighed. "We're working on it. But with all the work invested we can't simply give it away and some pureblooded Ministry jerk so far denied to accept its usability and worth. Since months we're …"

"Would you please shut up," Daphne yelled. She had tried to learn something about Balou's condition from Neville but he hadn't been willing to say what happened before the tomcat was healed. Listening to her mother and Poppy with rising anger, she now had enough. "Talk later about this and help him, damn it."

Ashamed both women only nodded and started to examine the tomcat, speaking quietly what could be done. "It is difficult to help him," Poppy explained after a while. "I haven't much experience with healing animals and a patient this small … with our usual spells, with the usual amount of magic involved; we could do more damage than help him."

"But we must do something," Daphne begged near tears. "We must help him."

Poppy was silent for a moment, thinking about what to do. It was Roxanne's turn to answer: "Not we – you."

"What?" Both Poppy and Daphne demanded to know.

"Your healing spells aren't nearly as powerful as mine. But it's not power we need here but delicacy. Remember how well you had been treating those children at the Easter Break. You should cast the spells, at least the most important one. This will give him time to recover with weak-dosed potions."

"I … I can't. What if I hurt him even more?"

Neville, who had been silent so far, stepped at her side and put an arm around her. "I'm sure your mother knows what you're able to do. Please, do it … for him." He left unspoken if he meant Balou or Harry, possibly both. He hugged her anew and after a supporting look of her mother Daphne nodded weakly.

.

In silence Daphne, her mother sitting at her side with an arm around her exhausted daughter, watched Madam Pomfrey applying another potion to the tomcat. More than an hour she had been working, weaving small healing spells on the tomcat, trying her best to ease his pain and avoid a circulatory collapse. She had only mend the most dangerous injuries and set the broken bones right to allow them correct healing over the next days.

"He'll live and I'm quite sure that he won't be crippled. Much more I can't say in the moment," Poppy announced to everyone's relief. Pondering she stared at Daphne. "Next year you'll be a fifth year, correct? That will allow you to take Healing as an elective course. I expect to see you in my class. Mister Longbottom will be there too, as I know."

Daphne glanced at Neville and the boy nodded with a smile. "I wanted to combine knowledge about Herbalism, Healing and Potions. I'm not quite sure what I'll do later but these themes interest me. I would be happy to see you there."

"I … I don't know," Daphne responded. "I know that my mother is really interested in the healing arts but in the moment I have no idea what I'll do later."

"Irrespective of your later career," Poppy responded," you shouldn't ignore your talent. Your mother was right about the power of your spells but I've seldom seen someone so … feeling … with his spells."

"Okay," Daphne agreed after a supporting smile of Roxanne. "I'll at least think about it."

Turning around towards Neville, Daphne's face changed from soft to stormy in seconds: "Now that Balou is cared for, Neville, it's time to tell me what happened." Glaring at the gulping boy who sensed a large amount of trouble upcoming she demanded: "Spill!"

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_**A/N**_

_About the __**Quidditch**__ game: Yes, every other observer would comment that the Gryff chasers had been far better than the Hufflepuffs, but with Ron as a Keeper …_

_But this description was the very special sight of Ron Weasley, Quidditch prodigy._

_What kind of __**reaction**__ do you want to see towards __**Ginny**__? My son is a great friend of the Crucio spell, but to my regret that isn't an option. What would be appropriate?_


	20. Chapter 20 The Yule Ball (Part 1)

_**A/N**_

_I rescheduled the date of the Yule Ball and put it on the 21__st__ of December, the real date of the Winter Solstice. I needed a few days out of Hogwarts for last moment Christmas shopping (in the chapter 22)._

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**Yule Ball (Part 1)**

_Hogwarts – 21__st__ of December_

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It was the eve of the Yule Ball. A solemn mood was in the air while the students gathered to celebrate the special occasion. It was wonderful to see what the Prefects had done to the Great Hall under Professor Flitwick's supervision. All was glittering and sparkling, ready to be the background for some wonderful hours of festivity.

Harry bowed slightly and returned the smiles as the twins with their dates passed him. He could see how nervous Fred was. It was completely needless as the girl on his arm showed her most dazzling smile, apparently impressed by the new robe he wore. Harry had bestowed the twins with new robes as an earlier Christmas gift, a gift both boys had really appreciated and their dates as well.

"Fred? George? Do you have a minute?"

As both boys stepped nearer, Harry draw a scroll from his pocket. He breathed deeply several times, drawing composure from the presence of the girl at his side. Professor McGonagall had ordered the Champions to gather at the staircase near the entrance to the Great Hall in preparation of their grand entrance. Not only would they have to enter the Hall as the last guests, under the eyes of all students, teachers and Ministry officials, but they would also start the first dance together. This was an attention he really didn't want but Daphne stayed calm at his side, her soft smile and graceful motions doing much to overcome his jitters.

A few steps away Fleur was speaking with her sister. Gabrielle had been near fainting as she watched her older sister battling the Dragon and had tried to stay near her as often as possible since then. Since Hermione had tried to calm the girl – despite the former animosity between Hermione and Fleur – the Beauxbatons Champion had been much nicer. Certainly it had helped how Daphne's mother prevented any burn scars to blemish her perfect skin.

Harry didn't like the boy at Fleur's side. Roger Davis was ogling his date, saliva dripping from his mouth. Partially it was the fault of the Veela charm but still he could behave better. The twins had told him about the pen friendship of Fleur and their older brother Charlie, something they began after the first task. Regretfully he had to work today and the rumor was, that Fleur had chosen Roger because he was a fair dancer, not too bad to look at and overall, most importantly, no real competition to a Dragon tamer. _Poor Roger_, Harry grinned.

With much more enthusiasm Harry had greeted Viktor Krum and his date. Since his snatch-the-egg-fly-by maneuver Harry's relation towards Viktor had improved immensely. Both had problems with fame interfering with their daily life, both had to live with very high expectations not only around the tournament. Harry hoped that this friendship would survive the end of the year, as it would be nice to have someone like Viktor out there. His date was Katie Bell. Harry had noticed Viktor's stare as he watched the Gryffindor – Hufflepuff game a month ago and after his success with the Fred-Angelina-Matchmaking he had tried his hand at another couple. Both had been too afraid to ask the other one and both were so happy now.

The last Champion, Cedric Diggory, had at least been able to ask himself and he had asked someone he really liked. That he was able to watch a happy looking Cho Chang without any lump in his stomach, was a sure sign that Harry's crash was over now. In the end he was relieved not to have asked her a few weeks ago. This way it was far better. At least he had been on speaking terms with her again, thanks partially to Cedric openly supporting Harry now. With his changing behavior and the support of the other Champions after the task, much had turned to the better in the school. Despite many still believing that something was very wrong about the choosing, more or less all stopped to insult him and many students had started to be content with his participation.

"_I'm certain that Harry did nothing to cheat his way into the tournament. Whoever was the culprit of this despicable act, it wasn't Harry", Cedric had stated clearly and loudly the morning after the first task. "But after his performance yesterday and how he was able to outthink and outmaneuver the Dragon, I'm quite sure that everybody shares my opinion, that Harry Potter is a worthy participant of the tournament."_

Perhaps even more than the support of the other Champions Harry had liked how Professor McGonagall had changed, not in her heart – he was sure that McGonagall never believed him to be a cheater – but in her outspoken behavior. The day after the first task she had forbidden to wear the "Support Cedric – Potter stinks" badges and to insult any Champion in speech or writing. Naturally it hadn't really stopped Malfoy and his cronies but the simple fact that a teacher had reacted, that a teacher had shown sympathy and support like this, had felt so good. Harry had been near tears as he thought about the past and how often he had wished for a gesture like that. But really flabbergasted he had watched the following scene …

.

_Great Hall – Dinner time – 25__th__ of November_

.

"For a long time," Deputy Headmistress McGonagall started, "we have allowed a kind of behavior in our hallowed halls, that isn't appropriate to a school of Hogwarts' reputation."

Carefully watching the other teachers, Harry saw a variety of reactions. Madam Sprout and Professor Flitwick seemed to agree with Minerva, while Snape showed a bland expression with a hint of boredom. Headmaster Dumbledore apparently would have liked to stop Minerva but whatever she planned: it was in her rights to do so, probably something in her position as Mistress of House Gryffindor and not Deputy or Professor.

Slowly she walked down the hall, Sprout and Flitwick following her, while Minerva continued: "I have to admit that it needed the hint of a former student, a Slytherin for good measure, to let me realize how careless we … how careless I have been."

_Agatha_ … Harry's eyes wandered to Daphne and her short nod confirmed his suspicion. A week ago, after the Hogsmeade visit, Agatha Pinegrew had accompanied them back to Hogwarts, to 'meet an old friend'. So it had been Minerva she wanted to meet. For a moment he pondered about what else could have been on her mind, before he returned to listen to Minerva's words.

"As you all know, every young wizard and witch is welcome at Hogwarts, may he belong to the oldest Pureblood family or be born to a family of Muggles who never before heard a single word about magic."

More than one Slytherin sneered but hastily they looked down as McGonagall turned towards them.

"Pureblood, Half-blood or Muggleborn … or Newblood as some of our Scientists call them as this term is much more appropriate regarding that they infuse new blood into our wizarding pool … we all are kind of family, all together in our quest for knowledge and happiness."

Sure enough it was no coincidence that her eyes rested on the Slytherin table as she continued: "But some of us can't accept this and while we can't enforce friendship between old and new, we certainly can try to enforce politeness and stop looking away from insulting, from hurt."

She had stopped below the hourglasses, used to count points for every house. With a low voice Professor McGonagall casted a spell, then she continued with a loud and grave voice: "From now on it is forbidden for every Gryffindor and carries an automatic penalty of ten points to use inside the grounds of Hogwarts the term Mudblood."

As she spoke the last word and under the gasps of everyone the hourglass shortly flared and ten points were deduced from the counter.

Instantly Madam Sprout followed her with casting a spell and uttering the words, Professor Flitwick only seconds behind:

"From now on it is forbidden for every Hufflepuff and carries an automatic penalty of ten points to use inside the grounds of Hogwarts the term Mudblood."

"From now on it is forbidden for every Ravenclaw and carries an automatic penalty of ten points to use inside the grounds of Hogwarts the term Mudblood."

Again the hourglasses flared and ten points were deduced from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

With Snape still sitting at the teacher table and the Slytherins using that word ten times more often than everybody else, it was again only a gesture. But it was a very significant gesture, meaning much to Muggleborns like Hermione. Many Slytherins smirked, certain that Snape would never follow Minerva's lead in this matter. But a few students at their table looked thoughtful, perhaps pondering for a first time about the word and what it meant to their targets.

Perhaps he should be angry, that it needed Agatha's intervention to push Minerva in this direction, to push her to react at last. Perhaps he should be angry that Dumbledore and Snape weren't willing to follow Minerva's lead in this matter. But he was simply too happy about it, too happy for Hermione. And Dumbledore's glare of death was a welcome bonus.

.

_Present_

Harry looked down at the scroll, looked nervously at Daphne, waiting for some support as it seemed. But the black-haired beauty only smiled: "It had been your plan, I only offered some ideas. It's your show, Prongslet."

The nickname certainly caught the boys' attention and their dates grinned broadly as they noticed the excitement of the twins. With a sigh Harry handed over the scroll to Fred. Harry gestured him to read it and waited nervously.

"What …" Fred hesitated? "I don't understand."

"I … and Daphne … see …" Harry harrumphed, waving uncertainly. A small punch from Daphne prompted him to jump a bit: "Don't push me." A poke of her index finger: "Tell them."

"Alright, alright," he grumbled. "See … we know that the two of you want to open a joke shop after school. It is a great idea, we think. We all need more joy around us. But it is hard to start something completely new, so we wanted to help. Daphne and I decided to invest in your shop."

Obviously Fred and George were at strife about agreeing overjoyed and refusing stubbornly something they could assume to be a charitable gift. Hastily Daphne interjected: "It's not pity or something. It's more like an investment. We're really certain that you'll have success with your idea. But …"

She pointed towards a paragraph on the scroll: "You have to work for it. Both of you are incredible intelligent, but both of you are incredible lazy too regarding schoolwork. Three OWLs … really? "

"To say your parents were disappointed would be an understatement, you know that", Harry added. "So we decided to offer you an incentive. 1,000 Galleons will be yours at the end of this school year … if your sixth year exams are at least acceptable. One year later, after your NETWs there will be a bonus depending on your performance. Each of you can fetch up to additional 500 Galleons."

It was quite a sight to see the twins totally speechless and flabbergasted. This they certainly didn't expect. They knew how happy especially their mother would be about a fair graduation and with this incense they had another reason to make an effort. And perhaps she would be more welcoming to the whole idea if they showed her this contract. It had been Harry's idea to help the twins, Daphne's idea to demand good marks – something that endeared the idea even to Hermione. He had to loan the money from Daphne, but she had happily agreed to help him. _"You simply have to win the tournament to pay your half," she had explained with a grin._

"Thank you … thank you both," Fred at last was able to utter. "This is … incredible."

"You're welcome."

"Oh," George suddenly remembered, turning towards Daphne: "Why did you call him Prongslet?"

Harry blushed, the color only deepening as Daphne explained. "To begin with: his Patronus is a stag. And then … do you know the names Prongs, Padfoot and Mooney by accident?"

"Aaah … yes." Both twins now stared at them with wide eyes. "What's about them?"

"Prongs had been my father," Harry sighed, prompting the twins' eyes to widen even more. "And I know Padfoot and Mooney quite well."

"We're unworthy," both twins exclaiming, bowing in an exaggerated manner under the giggles of their dates.

"Stop it, gits," Harry growled, unable to hide his grin. "I spoke with them. They're willing to meet you, share a few of their recipes with you … if" he stopped them raising his hand "if you're fulfilling this contract. You see … it all depends on your effort." In reality especially Padfoot hadn't demanded anything like that, but Harry hadn't to tell them this.

.

The next minutes passed with the twins and Harry speaking about the shop and the Marauders. From time to time they looked up to watch friend and foe pass them.

Tracey and Blaise walked by, certainly one of the more impressive pairings this evening. Luna clung to the arm of Michael Corner. As far as Harry knew the Ravenclaw boy had originally planned to ask Ginny to be his date – one of the many things that had changed in the last weeks. Now he tried his best to be a real gentleman towards Luna, the stern advice of Harry certainly helping as much as the not so veiled threats of Neville and Hermione what they would do with him shouldn't he behave like expected. _"For every of her tears you'll shed three"_ had been one of the more harmless threats.

The smirk of Draco, the weak but honest smile of Astoria, the curt nods of Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode, the flaming glare of Theodore Nott … they all only were short interruptions while they waited for a special duo to arrive.

Harry shared a short smile with Daphne, a smile that caused butterflies in his stomach and a rush of feelings he didn't want to think about at this moment, minutes before he had to dance with her. Daphne was in a deep conversation with Angelina, Alicia and Katie at the moment. All three girls had started a friendship with her in the last month. Especially Angelina had searched her vicinity, beginning with that important discussion about Fred two months ago. Harry knew that Daphne had been able to make an even stronger impression in a conversation one month later.

.

_Third of December_

The Quidditch team had returned from their practice, the faces sour, their motions exhausted. Harry, sitting together with Hermione, Neville, Luna and Daphne as he did very often now, had wondered what happened, especially as he noticed the lack of Ginny in the group and the angry faces of all Weasley brothers. Knowing Angelina he simply kept his mouth shut and waited for her explosion. He hadn't to wait for long.

"We evicted her from the team."

She hadn't to say the name but it did surprise Harry. Quidditch was serious matter for Angelina, nearly as much as it had been for Oliver before. To evict her Seeker – and a good one as Harry had to admit – certainly had been a difficult decision.

"Katie demanded a decision … Ginny or she."

Harry nodded. Katie, one of the many 'cat people' at Hogwarts, had been especially furious about the whole matter. As far as he knew she hadn't spoken a single word with Ginny so far and only glared at her, only barely restraining from doing something much more aggressive. Such tensions were wreckful for a team.

"And the Weasleys," Neville asked? Harry had wondered too how they reacted.

"Ron disapproved as expected – but not enough to leave the team too. And the twins … they agreed." Harry was surprised, but only slightly. Sure … they were family and certainly would always love and protect her. But a position in the team was hardly essential for survival and they had been as disgusted as everybody else. Not only did their sister willingly hurt an animal, no there was the point too of breaking Harry's trust. He had given the tomcat to her to stay save and then she did something horrible because of envy.

"And now," Hermione asked?

"Don't know," Angelina shrugged. To find a new seeker would be difficult. She could more or less expect to lose the games against Ravenclaw and Slytherin, especially with a keeper like Ron.

"I never understood," Daphne suddenly started, "why you never integrated some of the ideas from Muggle sport."

On Angelina's quizzical stare, Daphne explained: "Did you know that every Muggle team has stand-by players? And not only players who start playing should a member from the main team get hurt. They shift. Why don't the teams consist of … let's say ten players. You could have a stand-by chaser-seeker and a beater-keeper or something like that. They could train with the team and … in consultation with Madam Hooch … it could be allowed to shift players in the games. Perhaps a shift could be allowed after two hours of game or a fixed number of shifts. It could be a real tactical decision: do I shift now or do I save up in case of an injury?"

"That's brilliant," Harry uttered and Angelina agreed.

"It's not something I invented, I only read about it. By the way," Daphne continued: "Three games per team? Six games per year? It's not very much, don't you think so? Why don't let each pairing play two times against each other. Or there could be two teams allowed per house. Gryffindor Lions against Gryffindor Wildcats … a new era of competition," Daphne grinned.

"You've been really giving thoughts about this," Angelina assessed and stared thoughtfully at the Slytherin girl. "I'll speak with the other team captains about this and with Madam Hooch."

"But this doesn't solve your Seeker problem," Hermione interjected.

"No, it doesn't," Angelina sighed.

"Harry will play for you," Daphne simply stated.

"What," Harry wondered?

Daphne sighed, a hint of anger on her face: "You don't really want to forego Quidditch for a whole year? It means so much for you and I won't allow Dumbledork to send you into this stupid tournament and deny you additionally the joy of Quidditch." Harry only stared. They had been discussing about the matter more than once and Daphne had never wavered from the idea that the Headmaster was somehow involved in the whole matter. The simple fact that the culprit had to have intimate knowledge about the Goblet made it clear for her who was responsible. And she was right about his love for Quidditch. He had already regretted to leave the team and it would be nice to play again with the twins and the awesome trio of chasers.

"You could simply turn up at the games until Angelina finds someone for the position. You're better than Cho and Malfoy every day even with your eyes bandaged and on a broken broom. At least one of us should be able to play." Harry blushed as he heard Daphne's lavish praise, knowing that she normally didn't say something like that only to please him.

Turning around to the now even more thoughtful Angelina Daphne repeated: "Harry will play."

.

_Present_

Deep laughter and girlish giggles announced the arrival of the remaining Gryffindors. Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas had to support their exalted dates Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. Apart from "Peeves" not much was understandable from the sentences because of the giggles but it became quite clear what was so funny a few seconds later.

Ron, who had been already rejected by Fleur – in a very insulting manner – and Hermione, apparently hadn't realized how pissed the rest of the girls had been about his 'a girl needs only bodily attractiveness, all the rest is negligible' attitude. His behavior towards Hermione hadn't been helpful too and in the end every single Gryffindor girl had refused his invitation to the ball. One of the loudest and more insulting refusals had come from Katie. Ron had hoped that she would agree to go with him, with her two fellow chasers already accompanying the twins, but obviously Katie had a different view. And that was even before Viktor Krum – heartthrob of all girls at Hogwarts and especially all Quidditch playing girls – had asked her. In the end he had to ask Ginny, his sister being equally unsuccessful in her search. As a third year she needed an invitation to visit the ball and in the end she had to blackmail her brother to take her there.

And what a pair they were: Ron in his old and moth-eaten robe, stylish outdated even in the wizarding world for at least a century. And Ginny in a deep red dress, revealing enough to give her mother a heart-stroke. Harry had to admit that she looked very nice in that dress, very athletic and attractive. At least she would have without her clash with Peeves.

Nobody knew why Peeves hated the younger Weasleys like this, but it was no secret that the Poltergeist had started to harass them a few weeks ago. The rumor was that the Bloody Baron and the other house ghosts had bribed him into constantly following them, throwing insults and dung bombs at them. How he got hold of such a number of dung bombs was another secret to be solved.

The traces of several colors were still visible on hair and clothes despite their attempts to vanish them. And as they passed the other Gryffindors a mix of smells reached their noses, mostly disgusting and in the mix nearly overwhelming. Ron and Ginny certainly wouldn't enjoy the evening and Harry assumed that it was only the well-known Weasley stubbornness that brought them here – this and Dumbledore's wish to have them here, the Headmaster overruling – again – Professor McGonagall in the matter. Stubbornly they looked ahead as they passed Harry and his friends, only Ginny's eyes darting in his direction with a hint of tears visible. His anger was still strong but in that moment he felt a tiny hint of pity for the former Gryffindor princess. It must be hard to fall so deep.

"It's okay," the girl at his side whispered as she gently pressed his hand.

.

_Hogwarts – Gryffindor Common Room – evening 24__th__ of November _

As Harry reached the Gryffindor common room, expecting to see a large assembly of partying mates, he was astonished to see a room full of depressed people. Ginny was nowhere in sight and as he asked about the mood nobody gave a satisfying answer. Little did he know that Neville had ordered them to stay quiet until Poppy had a look at the tomcat. The mood didn't improve in the next hour and certainly it was at least partially his growing uneasiness, the feeling of missing something important, that led Harry react somewhat sharper that usual to Ron's glaring.

"What?" Harry growled. "Still thinking that I cheated my way into the tournament? Still thinking that I want to be there and that it is all so easy? How could I ever think that you're my friend, my best mate?"

Ron grumbled something in response through compressed lips, but Harry only understood the word "Mum".

"What?" He asked. "With your mouth always open while speaking and eating at the same time, can't you answer now a bit more understandable?"

"As if I ever wanted to be your friend, you looser," Ron yelled suddenly. "Without your fame you're nothing. How often have I saved your ass, think only about the chess game in the first year. But every time only you got the approval. Even Mum likes you more because you're the boy-who-lived and not only her sixth son. Mother wanted me to be friends with you since the beginning, but now I've enough. I hate you, you disgusting snob."

Harry was shocked. He had been aware of Ron's jealousness before but that he could see him like this. If Ron really assumed that Molly appreciated him more than her own son, then he could understand his behavior a bit better. And Harry had to admit that it wasn't pure invention. Molly and her "I love you like a son" had always been a bit creepy. How could a mother say something like that after only three years of knowing, after he spent only a few weeks in total at the burrows?

Before he had a chance to answer to the accusation, the portrait at the entrance opened and two students entered. Neville he had expected, even not with this sour expression. But it was the other one that totally flabbergasted Harry: Daphne.

"Daphne, what are you doing here?"

Whatever answer he had expected, it certainly was neither her very seriously spoken: "He'll survive" nor the answering gasps of relief or the gestures pointing towards the girls' dorm on her question "where is she".

_Who'll survive? Who is there_? Harry pondered, realizing too late that Daphne was on her way to the staircase to the girls' dorm. "Daphne?" Shocked he watched her ascend the staircase. That Neville clasped his shoulder and repeated "he'll survive, Harry," didn't help in the least. To him and everybody else in the room he declared "Daphne healed him". For some seconds a clutter of words from all sides didn't allow Harry to get some real answers. It only ended as Ron, who tried to stop Daphne, was himself stopped by the staircase transforming into a slide.

Moments later an angry argument erupted up there. Daphne became visible again, dragging Ginny behind whose hairs she clenched angrily. Ignoring the insults of the furious red-head, Daphne without further warning shoved the girl down the staircase, following her an instant later. For a second Harry wondered if she had stopped in front of a real staircase instead of the slide or if she had risked hurting Ginny.

"Petrificus totalus!" Ron, who had stormed to his sister's rescue, suddenly found himself in a full body bind, casted to Harry's shock by no less than Neville. Apart from lessons the boy never had used something like this spell and that he did was only another sign that something was surely amiss here.

Ginny scramble back, trying to get some distance between her and the now incredible furious looking Daphne.

"How could you? How could you hurt him, wound him? You could have killed him, you bitch."

Ginny tried her luck with an Expelliarmus, followed by a stupefy spell and her infamous bat boogey hex. Dodging the first, shielding against the second with a Protego and banishing the bats without halting a step – Daphne certainly impressed not only Harry as she advanced towards Ginny.

"Expelliarmus," Daphne's counter attack was far more effective. Harry, who now started to move between the girls was stopped cold as Daphne threw her wand towards him. Pondering a second to long about what Daphne planned to do, his hesitation allowed her to reach the Weasley girl. Seizing Ginny by the collar her anger allowed Daphne to hurl her against the wall.

"How … could … you … hurt … Balou?"

Every word was accompanied by another vicious slap, Ginny's cheeks redder than her hair within seconds, her lip split. Harry, just starting to advance again despite Neville's try to stop him, startled again. _Balou?_

"He nearly died because of you and your stupid jealousy," Daphne yelled at the top of her lungs, her mouth only inches away from Ginny's face. The normally so feisty girl was totally subdued now. Gasps from everywhere accompanied Daphne's words. They had known, they had seen, but to hear it was completely different. Harry paled. "What have you done?" Only that Daphne stood between him and Ginny held him back in the moment.

"If you have problems with my presence then attack me, hex me; punch me. But don't attack the tomcat that Harry entrusted to your care."

Retreating a single step Daphne glared at Ginny: "If you ever again touch him …"

Her carotid pulsating, her face and neck red with fury, Daphne was a sight to behold and nobody dared to do something even if he wanted to.

"Aaaargh," a last cry of rage announced her last hit. With full force her fist hit Ginny in the middle of her face, breaking her nose and sending her back head hard enough against the wall to knock her out cold.

It was complete silence that greeted Professor McGonagall as she entered the room, expecting something similar after she left the Hospital Wing a few minutes ago: Complete, stunned silence.

.

A broken nose and a mild concussion had been the diagnosis of Madam Pomfrey. She had healed the concussion and corrected the nose but didn't heal it completely. Leaving Ginny to run around with a nose splint for three weeks was her idea of punishment. Daphne had tried to convince the school nurse to equally not heal her hand, as she wanted some punishment for her lack of self-control. But Poppy didn't want to hear.

"Self-control is important, but sometimes it is okay to let go. Better than have an ulcer with thirty. And you'll need both hands to treat Balou. Your mother and I decided that you'll do the further treatment."

After he heard the full story about the incident and how Daphne had healed his Balou, Harry was torn between anger and relief. In the end Neville and Hermione found him standing at Balou's bed, hugging Daphne heartily, whispering thanks again and again.

Dumbledore had been furious. Apparently to hurt a Weasley was much more important to him than the welfare of an animal. Not that this reaction surprised Harry in any way after the Buckbeak incident. But Minerva had stepped in. Both girls, Daphne and Ginny, had to serve detention for their deeds. But while Daphne served her detention with Minerva, Ginny had to go to Filch after her release from the Hospital.

Minerva, the cat-lady, apparently used the occasion to speak a whole evening with Daphne. Harry's 'sister' didn't explain what she had been speaking about but the difference in behavior between girl and professor was clearly visible to everyone after that.

Ginny on the other hand certainly liked her detention far less. Filch, grumpy and insulting even on his best days, somehow had learned about the reason of the detention and used every possibility in his repertoire, every experience from his long years as a caretaker, to make Ginny as miserable as possible. That even the twins weren't willing to prank him for his behavior was a clear sign how much standing Ginny had lost with her action.

The clearly expected howlers of Molly directed at Daphne never showed up. Harry assumed that this had something to do with his long letter to Arthur, speaking about his long friendship with the family, how much he still liked most of them and how disappointed he had been because of Ginny and Ron. His hint towards Ginny's life debt certainly didn't hurt too.

Harry sighed. He really still liked most of the Weasley, especially Arthur and the twins. He even understood a little bit the reaction of Ron now, although he was shocked to learn that his three-year friendship with Ron had only been for show and on Molly's demand. He had to speak with the Weasley matriarch later, had to learn the reasons of her doing. Had it all been a lie? He couldn't believe it; he didn't want to believe it.

.

"She's so beautiful."

Katie Bell's deep sigh prompted Harry to look up and banish his bad thoughts. Neville floated down the broad staircase, looking stunning in his new robes. But Harry's jaw dropped down as he saw Hermione. The periwinkle dress clung to her curves, told everyone that she certainly wasn't one-of-the-boys anymore. She blushed as she noticed the reaction of Harry and the other boys. Luckily Daphne and the girls took it with humor and congratulated Hermione to her outfit.

"You'll be the Queen of the Ball, Hermione," Daphne declared. Harry was only able to nod weakly, prompting Daphne to add jokingly: "How eloquent, Harry."

Hermione smiled insecurely, her heart battering like a ram. Gently Neville bend her steps towards the Great Hall, the twins with their dates following swiftly.

"Ron was an idiot," Fred declared before he left and Harry could only agree.

Now it was time to start the ball and a short time later Professor McGonagall announced: "Ladies and Gentlemen: I present the Champions of the Wizard tournament."

.

_**A/N**_

_The term "Newblood" I found in a story of Madm05 and I liked it very much. _

_About __**Ginny**__: a broken nose, healed without magic and forced to wear a splint, the insult of being beaten like this in a magical and physical fight in front of all Gryffindors, detention with Filch, evicted from the team, a letter to her father, avoided by everyone – I assumed her life would be miserable enough without invoking the life debt._


	21. Chapter 21 The Yule Ball (Part 2)

_**A/N**_

_**Dr Stranger**__: „At a certain point you'd expect Dumbledore to adjust his plans a bit."_

_That's an interesting point I noticed in many stories. Often you see: Dumbledore betrays Harry, Harry realizes the betrayal (often with the help of the Goblins), Harry bashes Dumbledore and his plans; Dumbledore has no idea how to handle the 'new Harry' and doesn't react in any way, resulting in an active Harry and a very passive Dumbledore._

_I only remember a very small number of stories with a Dumbledore who is able to invent new plans, especially halfway decent ones, not the kind of plans that the "new Harry" smashes instantly. I'll think about that._

_**Becuzitswrong, N Flamel**__: Thank you for your reviews._

.

**The Yule Ball (Part 2)**

_Hogwarts – 21__st__ of December_

.

The large door opened and the four Champions entered the Great Hall under the eyes of hundreds of guests. To Harry's relief Cedric had convinced Fleur to take the leading position. Professor McGonagall had wanted him to be the one in front because of his age and Harry was certain that he would have died of embarrassment with all eyes resting on him. In this manner Fleur Delacour – much more used to this kind of attention – would be his living shield and outshine everybody else.

Roger Davis now even prompted Harry to relax a bit and amused him with his ogling, Roger's steps faltering more than once because he was unable to draw his eyes away from the Veela at his side. "Attention," Fleur hissed as Roger again nearly caused her to trip.

"You're doing magnificently," Daphne whispered to Harry, her voice much sweeter than Fleur's to her partner. _Did Fleur regret her choice now_, Harry wondered. To his surprise neither her swaying hips nor her Veela charm made much of an impression on him. Perhaps it was his Occlumency training that shielded him. Or he was simply too jittery at the moment. "It's easy with such a wonderful lady at my side," Harry whispered back, realizing some seconds too late what he said. He blushed furiously and glanced in Daphne's direction. Had he been too forward? But apparently she accepted the compliment with grace and a soft smile of those sweet lips. _Bad thoughts, bad thoughts_, Harry scolded himself.

His jitters came back in full force as they reached the center of the dance floor and took positions for the opening waltz. "Breathe," Daphne smiled. "You can do this, we trained this."

Harry smile was a bit forced but he was able to blank out the crowd of spectators and concentrated on the only person that was important now, the young woman in his arms. Without hesitation he made his first step as the music began, whirled her around, his mind only marginally noticing the other three pairs around them. With her heels Daphne was only an inch smaller than he and her eyes rested on his for the whole dance. Only once or twice did his look waver and glide along the sight of her bare shoulders, her long black hairs drawing his attention to the soft skin.

"You're doing fine," Daphne whispered and Harry sighed happily. She wanted to say something else, something about how well the physical training in the last months had helped to develop his shoulders and arms, changing from the scrawny boy to his now much more athletic frame. But a compliment like that would only trouble him, embarrass him, especially now and here. Perhaps she could tell him later. Scrawny – she had spoken with Poppy about that and why she never said anything about Harry's condition to Dumbledore. The answer had been disturbing but not really astonishing: _I told him, more than once_.

He knew? He knew and he did nothing? Daphne was aware that her mother and Grandma still thought of Dumbledore as an ally in the fight against the Deatheaters – an ally to be careful around but still an ally. Daphne wasn't sure about this anymore: Ignoring Harry's welfare like this in the past, missing the chance to train him properly and his behavior around the point of her mother adopting Harry: Dumbledore had acted more like an obstacle than a supporter in the past.

"Why such a grim face," Harry asked with a small smile.

Daphne sighed: "Only thinking about something."

"The fate of the world?"

"Something like that," Daphne grinned. "And you, enjoying your last relaxed hours this year?"

"Why? Have you planned something … strenuous?"

His innuendo caused Daphne to blush slightly and she gave him a small slap on his arm. "No, but how I know Mum and especially Grandma, they'll have a two-week-training-plan in mind for you. And Aunt Anne is visiting."

"Is this good or …"

"It's good, strenuous but good," Daphne smiled thoughtfully. "You remember: she is the one with the poison detection book I gave Hermione. And she was the one to introduce the hobby of riding to our family."

_Our family_, Harry thought, a warm glow of joy growing in his stomach: _Our family_. "Ah, yes, I remember. She's your Mum's sister, I suppose – hopefully not your father's?"

"Neither," Daphne responded. "Let me think: she is … was … the daughter-in-law of Grandma's cousin. 'Was' because her husband died twelve years ago. But she's still very close to us, visiting quite often when she's able to leave her work in Barcelona. She has a strong feminist touch, you'll see, but she's … simply awesome – my absolute favorite aunt."

"Oh, she's working in Barcelona?" Harry had long forgotten the crowd around them, missed the end of the waltz and that they had been dancing for nearly half an hour now, the dance floor filled with many pairs that had gotten a heart after watching the happy couple. Luckily Harry didn't realize the large number of eyes resting on him.

"Yes," Daphne confirmed. "She's Spanish, you must know. Her real name is Ana – spoken something like Anja – Katharina Hernandez. There are many more middle names and surnames with 'di something or other', I've never been able to memorize them. But she allowed us to call her Aunt Anne for simplicity."

"I'm curious about meeting her."

.

Dumbledore was a very unhappy headmaster at the moment.

Neither the approaching Christmas feast nor the joy of the students and teachers around him were able to alter his mood. It had all begun with the appearance of Sirius Black last year. He had barely mastered the problem through forcing Harry's godfather back into hiding only to have another, even greater problem arise in the guise of Lady Roxanne Greengrass née Pinegrew.

The Pinegrews had been a problem as far back as the early eighties. Especially Agatha Pinegrew had been a thorn in his side even after he was able to cause a split between her and the teachers of Hogwarts, Minerva being the most important one but Filius Flitwick and Poppy Pomfrey not far behind. In contrary to Sirius he wouldn't be able to legally drive a wedge between Lady Greengrass and the Potter-boy. Her standing was far too solid, the connections of her family too widespread. Agatha Pinegrew even belonged to the board of governors and could cause more than a few problems should he defy her family too openly.

Apparently the trouble with her had already begun. The Occlumency teachings to Potter and Granger carried her thumbprint far too openly. Potter, always the emotional one and unused to any kind of self-control, had made far too great strides to his liking since the summer break. It would be much more difficult to manipulate him and if he wasn't able to break that contact very fast it could be too late.

Dumbledore shuddered as he thought about the Occlumency abilities Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger had shown at his last try to enter their mind. Greengrass was apparently very sensitive and able to detect his mind-probing far faster than could be expected from a girl of her age and experience. And Granger's mind shield was already incredible strong. Only a few more months and he wouldn't be able to break them without a strong distraction or use of a sledgehammer method. Hopefully Potter would never be able to reach a comparable level of Occlumency, but Dumbledore wasn't certain about that.

That he hadn't forbidden Agatha Pinegrew to enter the compound of Hogwarts had been another grave error. Since her conversation with Minerva, his hitherto staunchest supporter had changed. The first strike had been the casting of protection spells on the Champions. It had casted doubts on his abilities to protect them properly. At least only a few persons knew that it had been her idea, not his own as he declared towards the Minister. Then there had been the case of her ban of that Potter-badge and the arrangement with Sprout and Flitwick to forbid the use of the term Mudblood. How bad could the use of one word be? Was it worth to annoy a large number of Pureblood families? He already had the inglorious reputation of a Muggle-lover and Blood traitor. These incidents certainly didn't help, irrespective of his non-existing support of the whole idea.

And now Minerva had openly declared among the teachers that she supported the idea of Potter being adopted into the Pinegrew family. Madam Pomfrey had been her first supporter with Madam Sprout and Professor Flitwick not far behind. Even Severus, who still hated the boy, hadn't been very outspoken in his critic.

The headmaster's eyes wandered to Professor Moody, his old friend. He sighed as he thought about the differences to times before. Apparently the last years hadn't been good to his old battle companion. Too much had happened and influenced his mind. Moody had always been paranoid and way too aggressive in his tactics. Perhaps he should have expected that Moody would show the Unforgivables to the students, but the use of the Imperio on them was a bit too far even for Dumbledore. Naturally he had protected him nonetheless against any critic.

And then there was the matter of his memory. More than once Moody had scrambled his memories about past battles and funny moments. Dumbledore sighed again. The critics of Moody weren't totally wrong. He would have to search for another DADA teacher next summer – again.

At least he had been able to implement the information about the Goblet and insert Potter into the tournament. Dumbledore had been surprised by the used tactic but in the end flying was one of Potter's strengths. That he had spent more than one afternoon training with the Greengrass girl had been a drop of bitterness.

No, he had to sow dissension between them – and fast. It was only a question of time before Roxanne Greengrass started to ask questions about the Potter wealth and find some secrets Dumbledore didn't want to be shared. That he had been able to convince Sirius to make the house of his family available had been a small success, one of the few in the last months. But he hadn't been willing to donate more money to the cause than needed to maintain the house. No, Dumbledore still needed the Potter money, rather more than before, certainly not less.

And a split-up would make Molly Weasley a happy Molly, something Dumbledore needed after the debacle around Ginny Weasley and that stupid cat.

Yes, Dumbledore decided: He would use the winter break to make some plans.

.

The buffet was quite impressive. The house elves, with the help of the students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, had tried to integrate a wide collection of meals from France and Eastern Europe. With many other students Harry and Daphne stood there and collected a mix of nibbles. But in contrast to those around them they took their time and made an effort to decorate the plates carefully, gently placing radish roses and grapes.

Daphne, who was preparing Harry's plate, smiled as she watched her 'brother' preparing her snack. For a moment it crossed her mind how well he already knew her and her tastes. Once he had complimented her hearty appetite, not sharing the preference of many other girls to stick to some salad and an apple. Yes, she preferred lean meat, but meat nonetheless. And her secret kink was a sandwich with salty butter, thick coated with liverwurst and a single slice of cucumber. Grandma was always laughing about her silly taste but still willing to prepare it on special days.

With a small sigh Daphne put a single slice of bacon and a small fried sausage on Harry's dish. He had started to eat healthier but was still boy enough to enjoy these fatty snacks from time to time. Hopefully he was very careful while eating. Oil stains on the robe weren't becoming.

"Balou would love to pillage these tables," Harry grinned.

Daphne giggled and nodded happily. "Do you remember the one evening we noticed how the plate with ham was slightly moving? He was sitting on a chair and very careful to stay out of sight while he nibbled at the edge of the ham slab."

Harry grinned: "Yeah, Roxanne nearly had an apoplexy. Luckily he was fast enough on his flight."

Grabbing a jug of apple juice and two tumblers – Ciddy had started to provide them with that alternative to the ever present plum juice – they searched for a quiet place and enjoyed their meal. Grinning Harry thought happily about Balou and his pranks. The tomcat had needed two weeks of intensive care to recover fully, but now he was active and agile as before. Without hesitation he had given Balou to his former healer and since then Balou and Daphne had been inseparable in the evenings. Relaxed and only softly purring he demanded a place at Daphne's side when she was reading in the library or working on her assignments in the Slytherin common room. The story of how she had beaten Ginny – the story proven by the very visible nose splint – had gone around and certainly had done much to secure Balou's life around the snakes.

He should have done that from the start, Harry sighed. He shouldn't have given the tomcat into Ginny's care. It was his fault that …

"Stop that," Daphne interrupted his thoughts, slapping his arm forcefully.

Harry grinned weakly and nodded slightly. Like Hermione, Daphne was able to tell his thoughts, especially when he was brooding again. More than once one of the girls had told him to stop blaming himself. Perhaps with their help he would be able to do so, one day.

.

After an hour of peace, speaking softly about all kind of nonsense and sharing happy smiles and glances, watching how Dean and Seamus tried hard to be the most gallant cavaliers to Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown and most of the other students apparently enjoying the evening, the last before they returned to their families for the winter break, it was the shrill voice of Katie Bell that announced the end of this time of Christmas wonder.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Katie's face was red with anger. Viktor was not in sight and Katie's conversation partner none else than Ronald Bilius Weasley. Daphne's happiness was chased away in a blink of an eye, disgust and anger replacing any happy feeling that had been dominating on the girl's face for the last hour, a happiness that caused Harry to enjoy this evening like none before.

"Why are you here … with him?" Ron whined. "He's so wrong, he's the enemy. You have to support Cedric and not this son of a bitch."

"Are you crazy? It is my decision whom I chose to date. It is certainly not your business which Champion I support. And in case you have forgotten: there are two Champions of Hogwarts. Remember Harry? You know: That Harry who had been your best mate for three years; that Harry without whose help you'd never been part of our Quidditch team."

"But you could have gone with me instead of Vicky," Ron whined again, choosing to ignore the part about his team position.

"Don't call him Vicky, you ass. His name is Viktor and I remember quite well how much you adored him last summer and how eager you have been the past months to get his autograph," Katie hissed, her stance telling clearly how agitated she was now. "And no: accompanying you was never an option, especially not after your little 'I only want a delicious birdie at my side' speech. These" she pointed at her breasts "you'll never see because these" Katie targeted at her eyes "had never been of interest to you, not to mention those small unimportant things called heart, character or brain."

Obviously Ron was unhappy and not able to see reason, but as he opened his big mouth again, his sister stepped between him and Katie: "Leave it alone, Ron. We really messed up enough this year to last for a long time. You don't have to unfairly insult Katie now."

Ron, totally ignorant to his sister's small speech rambled on and on. But nobody listened. All bystanders were too shocked by Ginny's reaction. That she would try to stop her brother from insulting someone and especially Katie, who had been reason for her eviction from the team, was more than a little surprise. And while Harry knew that Ginny had a talent for play-acting, her words seemed genuine enough. She looked so timid, depressed and vulnerable now. Apparently she was really shocked by the repercussions in the last weeks. It remained to be seen how long the effect lasted but perhaps she would really learn from that experience. He had no interest to renew their friendship but perhaps it would help her in the future.

.

With a sigh Ginny turned away, hastily avoiding the eyes of Harry and Daphne. The last weeks had been hard. Formerly the Gryffindor princess, beloved and adored as the twins' baby sister, the upcoming Quidditch star and close friend to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, she had lost it all. Nobody was speaking to her, at least nobody whose attention she wanted. Hearing Malfoy congratulating her to her deed had been one of the most intensive eye-openers. It had hurt to leave the team only a few weeks after joining them. It had hurt to lose the love of the twins and the friendship of the incredible Gryffindor chaser trio. She had been very close to Katie despite the age difference and now they hadn't spoken a word for a month.

That Dumbledore had intervened on her behalf and prohibited an appropriate punishment had been much more obstructive than helpful. A short, harsh, disgusting or humiliating punishment would have been better to restore any semblance of normalcy regarding the other Gryffindors' behavior towards her.

Father had been disappointed. The letter she got from him had been a silent one. No howler like her mother would have sent; no insults, no threats of punishment, simply sad disappointment. It had hurt her far more than any yelling could do. Charlie – who had learned about the matter from Fleur – had reacted quite the same. Charlie, her favorite brother. Charlie, the one she could always reckon on in times of hurt.

She had lost so much in that short moment of rage, not only the possible love of Harry but also his friendship and that of Hermione and many others. Ginny had no idea how to make up for that. So much she would like to turn back the time and undo it. Perhaps father would be willing to help her. Hopefully he would even speak with her over the winter break, listen to her thoughts and offer advice as he had done before … before she had started to follow mother's advice in the matter.

Molly would be there too, rambling about Harry and his ungratefulness, telling Ginny that she had to fight harder for her luck; that she had to strike back at the Greengrass girl. It had been like this in the last letters and Molly's opinion wouldn't change in the future. She had always dreamed of Ginny being married to the boy-who-lived, with her son Ron as his famous sidekick, something like Batman and Robin – assumed that Molly would read Muggle comics. But apparently Ron was more the Sancho Panza type, unable to accomplish anything without his friends.

With a heavy heart Ginny left the Great Hall, left her dumb brother behind. This had been the saddest day of her life so far.

.

"She was right," Daphne said with a low sigh as they left the Great Hall and entered the rose garden. After the fight between Katie and Ron, Daphne had needed a bit of fresh air and Harry had happily relented. Now they were walking with interlocked arms through the garden, enjoying the sight and smell of the roses, relishing the special light of the crackling torches.

"About what," Harry asked. "Viktor? Should I ask him if he's free for you? But I'm not sure about Katie's opinion in the matter," he continued teasingly.

"Not that, silly," Daphne smiled and administered the umpteenth punch to his arm this evening. Slowly Harry feared that he would have a small bruise there tomorrow. For a moment he wondered what was wrong as Daphne turned away, but then she asked: "What's the color of my eyes?"

"Gray like the fog across the Black Lake on a morning in March," he responded without hesitation, the words 'mushy' and 'soppy' crossing his mind seconds later, a slight blush hidden through the darkness.

"Correct answer," Daphne looked at him and smiled. She stayed silent for a while, with emotions visible on her face. But they were happy ones and so Harry waited. Suddenly sparkling laughter erupted from her throat and she needed some moments to get back her composure: "Have you seen how Luna was pouncing on poor Michael as we left the Hall?"

"Yes, looked as if she was ready to snog him silly," Harry sniggered. "Perhaps we warned the wrong person about behaving correctly."

"I'm happy for her," Daphne responded with a soft smile. "Life hasn't been easy for her. It is hard to believe in things you aren't thought to believe, to act against the expectations of those around you."

Harry wasn't sure if she was still speaking about Luna or herself. "Yes, Luna has never been the most traditional one," he smiled. Harry looked around: "I only hope that we'll not be tripping over Hermione and Neville, snogging in some dark corner."

"I don't think so. Neville is still way too shy. The time with Hermione has done him well, him and his self-esteem, but still …"

"I know what you mean. And I think his vicinity has been good for Hermione too. She is much more relaxed now. And from time to time she is even willing to stop reading for him." Hermione's love for books had always been a point of insults in the past, especially on Ron's part. And while Harry loved this bookworm side of his friend, he was happy to see this new side of her, to see her smile far more often, see her enjoy life.

"Companionship is very important," Daphne declared with a low voice: "To have friends around you, to share ideas and emotions, to not be lonely in moments of joy and grief." The girl hesitated for a moment before she continued: "I'm happy to have you as a friend."

Her last words had only been a soft whisper and she had to wait a long time for an answer. Had she been wrong? She had hoped that Harry would reciprocate these feelings, that there was more than sympathy. Had she overestimated what he felt for her? Daphne tensed as he grabbed both of her hands and turned her towards him.

"The moment," he started, "I met your mother, had been the luckiest one for me for a very long time. My childhood hadn't been very nice. As Sirius showed up last year, I had been elated. Someone, who loved me at last, I thought. Someone, who was willing to be a real family for me. When he had to hide again, I was crushed. In that depressed moment your mother showed up, showed me a possible future. That you were willing to share this with me, despite the danger to your family, was incredible. I found not only a new mother but … a very dear friend."

Harry raised his hand, cupped her face and gently rubbed the tears away that had started to run down her face. "Hermione and you are the two most important friends I have. But while Hermione is the older sister I always wanted, you are …" Harry stopped, his courage leaving him for a moment. These eyes, he had always on his mind ... that aristocratic nose above those sweet lips ... the porcelain skin that was a deep contrast to her black hair.

A rush of emotions went through his heart as he remembered the picture of a furious Daphne whirling through the Gryffindor common room, defending against Ginny's spells, pummeling her in pure rage because of Balou's injuries.

"You are …"

Harry lifted her hand, the one she had used to heal as well as to punish, and placed a light kiss on her knuckles.

"If you tell me now that I'm your little baby sister, I regretfully have to kill you slowly and painfully," Daphne whispered with a hoarse voice.

Harry shook his head, not trusting his own voice now. Slowly he leant forwards, towards her, his eyes locked onto her lips.

.

_Slytherin girls' dorm – some hours later_

"_Why_," Daphne pondered, quarreling with her memories and emotions, "_why had the evening to end like this?_" She struggled hard to stay silent, to hold back her tears and deny the sobs to leave her mouth. She didn't want to trouble Pansy and Millicent, not after what had happened. It had been so sweet in the beginning …

_Staring at his lips Daphne watched Harry's face nearing her own. Her body was rigid, her heart hammering. She had kissed before, simply to experience the feeling and a few times two years ago with Blaise, before he chose Tracey to be the one and only. But it had never been like this. His lips weren't as soft as her own, a bit rough, the contact gentle and tender at the beginning. As Harry shied away from her to see her reaction, Daphne had stopped him, put her arms around him and kissed him back. The second kiss was more intimate, longer. When they parted again a goofy grin appeared on his lips and Daphne feared that she did look equally silly. But she didn't regret the moment and hoped that he felt the same, would feel the same the next morning_.

They had been in the garden for a long time, for hours perhaps, for eternity as her emotions told her. _I want this night to last forever_, she had once heard in a song. They had been holding hands, kissed a few more times. But Harry had behaved like a gentleman. Not like Roger Davis, who had – believing the rumors – started to grope Fleur until he was on the receiving end of some nasty hexes. In the end Professor McGonagall had ushered them into the castle again, looking far happier than Harry could remember to have ever seen her. Most of the students had already been sleeping at that ungodly hour and Harry escorted her back to the Slytherin dorm, wanted her to be secure.

How could he have known? How could he have guessed?

As she entered the room she instantly noticed Theodore Nott and his two cronies, fifth year boys she had seen sometimes with him, bad apples even for Slytherin standards. Sensing the danger she hastily went towards the girls' staircase, hoping to reach it in time. But the boys had reacted too fast. In hindsight it had been clear that they had been waiting for her. One of them blocked her path, while the other one grabbed her arms roughly before she had a chance to pull her wand.

"Look whom we've got here – Potter's little whore," Nott hissed. "Had he enough of you for today? Haven't you disgraced the house of Slytherin enough already?" He backhand slapped her, bruising her cheek in the motion. Daphne only glared back, knowing that no answer would help her, that every word would only infuriate him even more.

Nott sighed exaggeratedly and looked at his two companions. "What shall we do with the little whore? Should we allow her to blemish the good name of our house even more? Or should we show her how to behave properly? Kissing a Gryffindor in publicity … yuck."

So they had watched them, Daphne pondered. She should have expected that, should have known …

Staring at Nott Daphne thought about what would happen next, how Harry and the others would react to the news. She had an idea what Harry would do and especially how he would blame himself for all what happened. Slowly her despair turned into anger, her defeat into determination. She had no chance against the three boys, but she wasn't willing to go down without a fight. The boy behind her had loosened the grip a bit and Nott obviously thought that he had the situation under control – at least until Daphne rammed her knee into his groin with all might. Gasping he went to his knees, the boy behind her dragging her away, but not fast enough to prevent her from kicking Nott into his face, nearly missing the nose but blackening his eye.

Nott was whining on the ground. The other boy left his position and slammed his fist into Daphne's stomach. A few further strikes hit her upper body, the grip preventing her from dodging them. Suddenly steps became audible on the staircase. Daphne's tormentor turned around, opening himself to a kick against his knee. The captor behind her let loose and went for his wand, only to lose it instantly.

"Expelliarmus!" Daphne would have never believed that she would ever love to hear Pansy's voice. A blink of an eye later a heavy body slammed into the boy whose knee Daphne had hurt moments ago and sent him sprawling to the floor. Ham-like fists pummeled him into the ground, while Daphne struggled to clear her vision. Disbelievingly she stared at Millicent whose face, red with fury, glared down on her victim while her fist again connected with his face.

"Petrificus totalus!" How often had they watched with amusement the poor spell casting of Pansy. But now, with her other tormentor frozen in magical bindings, nobody smiled. Several stinging hexes followed, as Daphne registered with joy. Sinking down on a chair she only noticed absently how Tracey left the boys' dorm with Blaise behind her. _What would her mother say to this sight_, she mused absently? Her friend hurried at Daphne's side while another Expelliarmus, this one casted by Blaise, disarmed Nott a second before a hissing ball of fur and fury launched itself onto Nott's face. Only barely was he able to protect his eyes as four claws started to punish him, to scar his cheeks, neck and ears.

In the end he had to flee into the bathroom because even Daphne wasn't able to calm the tomcat down. Daphne, despite the former experience, couldn't help but burst out into laughter at the silly sight of the small cat in front of the door, trying to burrow his way into the room. Millicent stood up, but not without kicking her victim into the ribs a last time. With adoration Crabbe and Goyle watched her and even Draco stayed silent as he noticed the expression on Pansy's face.

.

With another sigh Daphne turned around in her bed. Balou's purring slowly had an effect on her nerves and she sensed sleepiness overcome her mind.

Minutes later Professor Snape had been there and to her relief he had agreed to stay silent about the matter at least for the moment. They would have to speak with the Headmaster about it after the winter break but she didn't want to spoil the mood. Harry and Hermione would be troubled deeply about the incident. Luckily Madam Pomfrey had been able to heal the bruises, at least Daphne's.

The three tormentors had been sent home an hour later after a first interrogation by Professor Snape. With no small amount of joy Daphne thought about the large number of cuts and bruises all three had shown. Madam Pomfrey had been unwilling to heal them and Daphne secretly hoped that the cuts Nott had received from Balou would infect and hurt him for a while. But regretfully she wouldn't have so much luck, she feared.

A last time she patted the head of her small furry cavalier, before she turned around and slipped into a dream about Christmas at Pinegrew Manor.

.

_**A/N**_

_About __**Ginny**__: I know, many of you would like a continued Ginny bashing. But I intended not a "bad love potion administering Ginny" in this story but see a girl with a heavy crush, a vicious temper and bad influence (her mother and Dumbledore). Four weeks with everyone pushing her away, even most of her family members against her and with heavy repercussions on all sides should make an impact on a thirteen-year-old. She won't be "the nice one" suddenly, but at least she starts to think about it all. It remains to be seen what Molly's opinion is about the matter. _

_About __**Balou **__and the ham: That's a real episode of his life. We prepared a buffet for a family party and noticed that the ham was slightly moving. Balou was sitting on a chair, hidden by the table cloth and nibbling at the ham, carefully staying out of sight._


	22. Chapter 22 Interlude

_**A/N**_

_Regarding __**Harry and Occlumency**__: Perhaps it hadn't been clear enough in the last chapter; but Harry doesn't have problems with Occlumency. He is making great progress (too great for Dumbledore's liking), but in my opinion he's more talented in the area of Legilimency (something you often read in stories). Hermione, with her very ordered mind, is an extremely talented Occlumens (but a bad Legilimens) while Daphne has years more of teaching behind her (and is more sensitive, not powerful)._

_About __**money**__: I reduced the numbers I had used until now for the dowry of Astoria. As far as I know the "official" conversion rate "Galleon to Dollar/Euro" is around 1:5-7. But with the prices used in the books (around 10g for a wand, 700g for a vacation to Egypt with the whole Weasley family and 1,000g to open the WWW shop) I assume a higher rate would be more appropriate, one I've seen in other stories. So I'll use a rate of 1:20-25 in the future._

.

**Interlude**

.

_The Burrow – 22__nd__ of December_

.

Lowly humming to herself Molly was preparing the house for the arrival of her kids. With Bill and Charlie returning for Christmas from Egypt and Rumania and her four younger kids having a two-week-break these days certainly belonged to the most stressful in the year. Too bad that Charlie wouldn't be at home for more than a few days. He had agreed to visit the Delacour family on Boxing Day, but at least he would be here for the Christmas celebration. The rest of the family would spend the whole winter break at home and she'll really need the time to fix some matters. The last months had been a real mess, especially regarding the events around Ron and Ginny.

Was it too much to ask for? That her two youngest obeyed her orders, simply as they were? _Befriend Harry, stay close to him, prevent others from bonding with him and especially push away every 'suitable' girl_. It was so simple but no, they had to cause a disaster of epic proportions.

Ron was no longer a friend of Harry.

Ginny not only failed to become his girlfriend, she also followed her dumb brother into Harry-lessness. And on her way she had to alienate every single housemate and teacher.

And to cap it all: not only had Neville Longbottom been able to replace Ron as Harry's best mate and Hermione apparently chosen to be Neville's girlfriend instead of waiting for Ron to make his move. No, they had allowed that Greengrass slut to encroach on poor Harry. The poor, naïve boy, he simply knew too little about girls to defend himself against such a poisonous snake. Certainly she had used Amortentia on him; otherwise there was no way that he could prefer that bitch to her sweet Ginevra.

_Poor Ginny_, Molly mused. _She must be crushed_.

If only she had listened to her mother last summer, listened to her and prepared a love potion. It would have been only in their best interest, only to give Harry a small push in the right direction. She had done the same with Arthur more than twenty years ago and how well it had ended. Long after stopping to administer the potion, he was still with her. Seven children were proof of their love and that she had been right in doing so.

And Ginny could have the same. Last summer she had rejected the idea, had even reacted slightly irritated as Molly told her about the beginning of the marriage between her and Arthur. She had told her the story to prove her point but Ginny was simply too young, too naïve to understand. Perhaps now she would agree, now that she had seen the deviousness of the snake.

At the time when she heard about the whole affair, heard that Harry had chosen Daphne to be his date to the Yule Ball and even refused to speak with Ginny anymore, she had been furious. For a few days she even had regretted that she had ever made a deal with Dumbledore to draw Harry into her family. But now, after a bit of time to cool down, she saw reason again. Someone like Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, simply had to stay in a family of the Light. He couldn't be allowed to stay with a family like the Greengrasses, supporters of the Darkness. It would send a false message to everyone. _Harry in the clutches of Lucius Malfoy_, Molly shuddered.

No, they simply had to work harder. She would send Harry his yearly jumper. Perhaps she should do the same with Hermione; perhaps not all was lost about her. The girl had always been gullible enough, especially regarding Minerva and Albus, the two teachers she trusted the most. With Hermione's assistance it would be far easier to convince Harry that Daphne was the wrong girl at his side.

She had only another seven months until his fifteenth birthday, another seven months until the Goblins would start to harass the boy with information about his inheritance. Molly Weasley had a work to do: She had to convince her daughter to use every possible means and she had to make some plans with Albus how to influence the boy and especially drive the snakes away. It was time to put off the gloves.

.

Arthur was deep in thoughts. The good mood of his wife was troubling him. She had no reason to be like this and her former rage had been far more convincing and in a way more reassuring. Good mood was a sign of bad plans, he reasoned.

It had been very disturbing to watch how Molly had tried to influence Ginny and how his sweet daughter had changed over the years, her former Harry-crush growing into a full-fledged obsession. This whole affair around Harry's tomcat was only the most obvious sign of Ginny's inner turmoil.

_Yes, he would like to see Harry as his son-in-law_, Arthur admitted to himself. He really liked the boy, even if he found Molly exaggerated cuddling not very funny, her "I love you like a son" a bit premature. And marrying him would allow at least Ginny to live in luxury. Knowing the boy Arthur was certain that the whole family would benefit from such a union. But it should be the choice of Ginny and Harry, not of someone else. Molly had always been far too supportive in the whole matter and from the beginning, from hearing the first stories about how Ron became friend with Harry, Arthur had the impression that somehow Dumbledore had been meddling.

Arthur sighed. _At least Charlie will be here_. Together they should be able to protect Ginny from the influence of her mother. Charlie had always been her favorite brother and been able to convince her when she was unwilling to follow her parents' wishes. And not all was hopeless. Ginny's last letters, especially the one she had written last night while Harry was still dancing with Daphne at the Ball, had been promising – depressed but promising. They showed a girl that was struggling with her emotions and begging for help.

He loved her. He would help her – even against Molly.

.

_Grimmauld Place 12 – 22__nd__ of December_

.

"A few more weeks to go with proper meals and you'll look like a real wizard again," Remus grinned while he watched Sirius eat his breakfast. His friend had come to Grimmauld Place for a few days to spend Christmas with Remus and a small number of other members of the Order. He had been eating and resting most of the time and slowly gained back his usual appearance. Only the eyes still betrayed the experience of Azkaban. Sirius would have preferred to avoid most of them and their constant harassing to join the Order again, but with Harry away from Hogwarts there was no reason to spend the next two weeks in the cold caves near Hogsmeade. At least the Weasleys wouldn't be here.

Even with the Polyjuice Potions he'd got from Agatha Pinegrew he had to be careful and was running around as a black dog for most of the time. Her house elf Ciddy had started to complement his diet with some healthier things but he still appreciated the idea of some hot meals and to share a single malt whiskey in the Black library with Remus.

"And that coming from someone who had to buy his first proper suit not a month ago," Sirius deadpanned. He was meaning well and Remus knew it. Sirius hadn't been the only one to enjoy an appropriate diet and Remus' had been augmented with a number of potions, Wolfsbane the most important but not the only one. Remus had only accepted the valuable potion after Agatha – tired of hours of discussions – drew her last joker. Inviting Minerva to join their cosy little chat it hadn't taken long to convince the Werewolf – if only to protect his ears from the double harassing.

Tonks had needed all her charm to convince him that to accept all of this was the correct thing to do. At least Remus seemed oblivious so far that Roxanne and Sirius were trying to set him up with the beautiful and vivid Auror. They wanted to see Remus happy again and Tonks could be the solution to his pain. Unbeknownst to her Agatha had spoken with Amelia Bones about Tonks and her affiliation to the Order. Amelia promised to stay back at least for a while and to allow them some time to convince Tonks that she couldn't serve two masters – the DMLE and the Order – for long. Dumbledore would demand sooner than later something from her, something against the law; something that would force Amelia to evict the smart witch with her unique talent. She would regret to do this and hoped that Sirius would be successful in time.

The most important point in Sirius' reasoning to convince Remus that it was okay to accept clothes, meals and money, had been their contract negotiated by Agatha Pinegrew. In that contract Sirius and Remus had agreed to start a small business. In the beginning Sirius would give the money and Remus would do most of the work. Later – Sirius hoped – they would be able to work side by side.

Harry had been right: Remus not only needed money but also some real work. It couldn't be the usual night watch job – one of the few a werewolf was able to snatch in these days – but something appropriate to an intelligent and well-educated wizard like him. They would offer their services to examine family heirlooms; detect and break curses on them. In the beginning they would need some help and the Goblins had been willing to cooperate. They had demanded a ridiculous share for their willingness to lean Curse-breaker Bill Weasley – he would return to England for a while in January – but as Sirius was more interested in the work itself, he was okay with that part.

The more important and time-consuming part would be their freelance work as family librarians. Many pureblood families had extensive but often ill-cared family libraries. Remus would examine them, catalogue the content and offer to repair damaged books. In the beginning it would be difficult to get jobs from the really important families. They wouldn't trust a werewolf. But that would change – so Sirius hoped – when he was able to work openly again. The name Black would open doors that would stay closed to a Lupin. Until then they had to be content with the smaller families.

"The house is much better this way – brighter." Sirius bit into his apple. He really enjoyed what Remus had done with the house since October. The kitchen, the library and a few other rooms had been repapered in brighter colors, dark ceilings and carpets replaced with friendlier ones. Even a few windows had been newly created or enlarged to allow more sunlight to permeate the house.

"A few rooms are still closed. I'm waiting for Bill. Together we should be able to clear them too. That leaves only that bloody portrait of your mother."

Sirius groaned. The portrait, he nearly forgot that one. Perhaps Harry had an idea what to do – or Hermione. She was even cleverer than Remus, reminded him much of Lily. It was no wonder that Harry was so close to her. "We'll find a solution."

"Until then I should be finished with Potter Manor."

Sirius nodded. Potter Manor, it had been the residence of James' parents. It had been used for the last decade as the main base and meeting place of the Order. He knew that Remus had started to work with the Potter library. It was their first official working order. Harry had insisted to draft a real contract about it, to pay for the work and they would even get a recommendation afterwards, a recommendation of the Scion of House Potter. The second contract was already in sight: Agatha wanted them to examine the Pinegrew library. And, unknown to Remus, a few of Agatha's colleagues already had shown interest. The next year at least was fully stretched.

"What's on your mind, Remus?"

"I'm not sure," Remus sighed. "The Potter library … there are some … gaps."

Sirius frowned: "Gaps?"

"Yeah, gaps," Remus responded thoughtfully. "You know … books I know that had been there before, books that belonged to James father … old books."

"Do you think he sold them … to pay the upkeep?"

Remus had already told Sirius that Dumbledore had heavy-heartedly started to sell some things from Potter Manor, mostly furnishings and paintings from unused rooms. His explanation had been to pay the upkeep of the manor. It sounded reasonable enough so far but Sirius intended to pay the Manor a visit in the near future and have a look.

"I hope not. Books are important, family books are priceless. We should speak with Harry about it. Perhaps he should accept Agatha's offer." Agatha had offered to collect the books from Black, Potter and Pinegrew Manor to start a common library. Sirius had been unsure about it in the beginning but after weeks of thinking he was more agreeable to the idea. Remus, who had been a Dumbledore-man for a long time because of the Headmaster's support twenty years ago, was still more hesitant towards the Pinegrew family. But apparently this whole 'vanished books affair' was troubling him.

"We'll speak with him."

.

_Malfoy Manor Library – 22__nd__ of December_

.

"This attack was unacceptable," Lucius fumed and not for the first time since Severus had reached Malfoy Manor. The Potions Master leaned back and allowed his friend to blow off his steam a bit more.

"This prat, how could he? The girl quasi belongs to my family, Sev. She'll be Draco's sister-in-law in a few years."

"You weren't concerned about her welfare like this when her father was proposing his silly plan to finance Astoria's engagement with Draco." Severus belonged to the small circle of persons who knew about Cyrus Greengrass and the real reason of Lucius acceptance of the proposal one year ago. And even he only knew about it because he had been able to see through the lies his friend had concocted to placate his wife. This knowledge had given his already low opinion of Cyrus Greengrass another blow.

"That was something completely different," Lucius growled. "If Cyrus appreciates his social career more than the life of his daughter, who am I to criticize him?" _Always the pragmatist_, Severus mused.

"It is doubtful that Narcissa would share your opinion. You know how important parental love is in her mind and heart. The pure idea to kill his own child …"

Lucius stared at his friend, his eyes narrowed: "Draco is not Daphne. And you'll not tell Cissy about this little side contract."

Severus sighed but bowed slightly: "If you wish." While Lucius rambled on and on about Theodore Nott and his attack on the Greengrass girl, Severus pondered about Cissy. It was a very bad idea to underestimate a Black sister. Andromeda had bravely revolted against her whole family and Bellatrix had been – righteously – the most feared follower of the Dark Lord. Some of their blood was flowing in their youngest sibling too. That Lucius wasn't able or willing to understand this, was only proof of Miss Greengrass argument about his lack of intelligence some weeks ago.

.

_The lesson hadn't been a very special one. He had deduced some points from the Gryffindors, especially the Granger girl, and allowed Draco to help his awful stupid cronies Crabbe and Goyle. The sole surprise had been Bulstrode's improvement since Halloween with the help of Parkinson. Still she wasn't a prodigy in potions but even valued fairly she would be able to reach an "A" in between, leaning towards an "E"._

_Neville Longbottom had shown better nerves in the class but still he was fidgety with Snape breathing in his neck. And he had shown a new, more reckless and less patient side when Snape ridiculed Granger now. Another quarrel – Severus was unable to remember the concrete item – erupted but after some heated exchanges Daphne Greengrass had the nerve to interject:_

"_It is totally unfair how you treat them, Professor. You know exactly that Granger is far better than anybody else here. And Neville would be okay without your constant harassing. He's more able than half of the other Gryffindors, not to mention Crap and Coil."_

_Some sniggers erupted even among the Slytherins but Severus Snape only glared at the imprudent girl. "I'll see you this evening for detention, Miss Greengrass."_

"_Yeah, yeah, detention, I know, it is your only answer to anything. I shouldn't have expected more, silly me, from someone who is friends with a dork like Lucius Malfoy."_

_Draco started to stand up but a single gesture of Snape stopped him. "Yes he is my friend, you're correct. But you know: your father is his close friend too." _

_His smirk turned into a frown as he heard her response: "You've just vindicated my argument about intelligence and being friends with a Malfoy."_

.

Naturally he had extended the detention and deduced some points – from his own house, Severus cringed. But she had been correct about his behavior towards Longbottom and Granger. Her comment about her father had only shown the deep trench between her and her mother on one side and Cyrus and Astoria on the other. Severus didn't share Lucius opinion about winning Potter to their cause through the Greengrass girl. Perhaps it would only push Roxanne and Daphne away even more. And Cyrus Greengrass alone wasn't much of an assess all alone.

"All was going according to our plan," Lucius mumbled.

_To your plan perhaps_, Severus pondered.

"Draco told me that Potter went to the Ball with Greengrass as a date, not like siblings. He saw them snogging."

_I saw that too_, Severus groaned. _I nearly vomited, thinking about James Potter … and Lily_.

"We have to act. There can't be a repetition of the matter."

"You know how obstinate Nott senior is," Severus remarked. "Remember how he ignored your orders at the Quidditch finals. We didn't want to hurt anybody but no: He and this mental acrobat Smith had to try to kill some Muggleborn – and the Granger girl for good measure. With a father like that, how do you intend to stop his stupid son? The other two are no problem. Their parents are unimportant and should understand that a transfer to Durmstrang would be in order before Lady Agatha Pinegrew hears about the incident. But Nott … ?"

"He paid dearly for his incompetence and defiance. I heard he'll return for Christmas with his new hand, something magically crafted in Germany. Perhaps Smith learned, but I'm not very confident about it."

Severus nodded. He had heard about Smith senior and his extended vacation to the Black Forest, too. Apparently the magical clock makers had been able to invent something to replace the lost hand. He expected the silly Hufflepuff to be still fuming. His son already tried something and he would do it again. Severus had no doubts that Smith junior had been the one behind the poisoning of Granger. Luckily she survived, thanks to the Greengrass girl. Despite his antipathy he would hate to lose such a mind to a dumb act of revenge.

Severus poured some Firewhiskey into the tumblers of Lucius and him. The Pinegrew ladies had been furious about the poisoning attack. How would they react to this last incident? Should Roxanne or – Merlin help – Agatha ever get to know about Cyrus' plans, the Greengrass Head of the House would certainly be dead within hours – perhaps days if he was running fast enough.

_Had it been right to tell Cissy_, Severus mused? He had told her this summer, the sole reason that he was so easily able and willing to obey Lucius' wishes about staying silent in the future. He had expected some furious reaction, a kind of magical explosion. But she had surprised him – again. She had stayed silent. She had pondered. And she had started to change. Severus knew about the letters, the letters Cissy had written to her sister Andromeda. She was only one step away from openly acknowledging her sister. It would be … interesting to observe.

Lucius frowned deeply, gulping down some Firewhiskey again. It was way too early for alcohol like that but he needed it now for his nerves. "You'll have to convince him somehow, Severus. We can't allow him to endanger our plans: Even more important than getting hold of the Potter boy ourselves is to separate him from the Old Man. Agatha and Roxanne may not be our closest allies, but they despise him nearly as much as we do. With Potter as his flag ship the Old Man would be able to sway many more to the Order's side.

"Convince the Nott stripling to behave, Sev. And if he's unable to see reason … Hogwarts is a dangerous place, much can happen until the summer break."

.

_Pinegrew Manor – 22__nd__ of December_

"I'll be back in three days for the Christmas Celebration. I'll have a Ball to attend on Boxing Day but after that I should be here for the rest of the winter break."

The melodic lilt of her Spanish guest had a calming effect on Roxanne Greengrass. She dearly loved her Aunt, felt far more secure with her around. More than one Pinegrew-Lady-Tradition had its roots with her influence and Roxanne had no doubt that her life was much more secure through Anne's Occlumency lessons.

"I'm sure Daphne and Astoria will be happy to see you again. They missed you dearly last summer." Roxanne didn't know for sure what exactly had been the reason for Anne's silence over the summer months. Something had happened in Spain, something that demanded her full attention. But the trouble apparently had been solved and now she was willing to spend more time with her English kinfolk again.

"I would like to see them, too. I'm curious about Daphne's progress. I've spoken with Agatha about starting to train her in Legilimency while she'll continue with the others in Occlumency. This way they should be better able to use the months till summer for training."

"But be careful, please. Daphne has much on her mind in the moment, with the tournament and her … you know, Harry." Roxanne smiled as she thought about the last letters of her daughters. Especially Astoria had been quite detailed about the improving relationship between the teenagers. "I don't want to overextend them. They're still teenagers."

"I'll be careful," Anne agreed. "But I have to know, have to see, not only Daphne but the others too. Harry naturally I have to examine as he'll belong to the family. And Daphne has asked me to introduce Hermione too, together with her, when Daphne turns fifteen."

Roxanne frowned. She knew about the plans to introduce her daughter into the Congregation, it was tradition for the Pinegrew women, even before Anne's marriage into the family. But the Granger girl … she had never thought about that. In a way it made sense.

"She's catholic and quite talented as far as I heard," Anne explained. "If the rumors are correct about her abilities and especially her character, she'll be a fine addition to the Congregation."

"Miss Granger had been a very good influence to Daphne. Their friendship is strong. And she is very close to Harry. Perhaps you're right; perhaps we could introduce all three on Daphne's birthday. Let's see what you think about her after you spent some days with her. I'm quite sure you'll be impressed."

.

_**A/N**_

_Aunt Anne and the Congregation will play a greater part in the sequel to this story. The last paragraph is partly meant as a hint and joint to later shared secrets. For this story it is only important that Anne is a very talented Occlumens and an even more skilled Legilimens._


	23. Chapter 23 Honest Friends

**Honest Friends**

.

_Hogwarts Express – 22nd of December_

.

_It was time to go back to Pinegrew Manor_, Harry sighed with a mix of relief and regret as he put his trunk onto the shelf in the compartment. While he liked the idea of spending Christmas with Daphne's family – _no, with his family_ – it would have been nice to have a few days with Daphne alone to 'sort out what happened'. _Was she his girlfriend now?_ Harry pondered. _Did she regret the kiss?_

Neville, Hermione and Daphne were already sitting there, leaving him the window place at Daphne's side. She had been very quiet this morning and looked tired. Her smile was a bit forced and didn't reach her eyes. Once he had started to ask her what happened, but Hermione stopped him with a shake of her head.

"Leave her, she'll tell you when she'll be ready," she whispered. Balou was resting on her lap and yawned heartily in Harry's direction. He was completely healed again and enjoying his place apparently. Hedwig was sleeping in her cage on the baggage rack. A heavy cloth had been put around the cage, charmed by Daphne to spend the owl some silence and darkness. _I have really to learn that special charm_, Harry mused. Crookshanks was lying on another rack above Hermione and apparently enjoying his lookout, watching the scurrying landscape.

So he tried to lift the mood instead. "I'm so happy that you'll be there with us."

""Yeah," Neville grinned. "I was a bit surprised that Grandma allowed it but apparently she has a healthy respect of your Grandma, Daphne."

"Who not," Hermione agreed. "The first time I met her, I was shaking in fear."

"You exaggerate," Daphne smiled. "But yes, she has her ways to get what she wants." After some minutes of silence she suddenly continued: "But it wasn't Grandma's letter that convinced your Grandma, Neville. Agatha only extended the invitation to have this cleared formally. She had already agreed beforehand."

"Oh?" Neville looked very confused now, but Daphne stayed silent with only a small, sly grin on her face.

"I …" Hermione hesitated. "I've written your Grandma, Neville, after Roxanne's visit."

Neville blinked and paled a little bit. "Why would you do that? It wasn't about …" Neville harrumphed. "It wasn't about us?"

Harry watched his friends in complete silence and happiness. He knew about the letters and their reason but it was so sweat to observe their little dance. Last evening there must have happened something and he wasn't sure that he shared Daphne's opinion about the 'no kiss thing'. Hermione and Neville were a bit touchy this morning, several times not so accidently brushing shoulders or shortly holding hands – as they did now again, when Hermione pressed Neville's hand reassuringly.

Hermione blushed deeply but shook her head. "No, it was about something Roxanne mentioned … something about your wand. You see … we think that you could be far better at casting spells with your own wand. I know you like this one because he belonged to your father but still … it is not the one wand who chose you."

Anxiously Hermione watched him and only relaxed as he nodded. "Yes, I understand that. I would like to have my own wand. But Grandma … she wanted me to have father's. It means much to her."

"I know. That's the reason I've written her and explained her why I think that you need a new wand. We exchanged a few letters and she agreed at last, agreed to the Christmas visit and the new wand. So you'll get a new wand … tomorrow, I think Roxanne said. It's kind of Christmas present from Roxanne."

.

Harry had spent some time with reading in a book he'd got from Agatha: "How to behave, a small guide for young Lords and Ladies". He had gotten some funny remarks about it and a few anecdotes from Neville and Daphne about the time they had to inhale the content of the same booklet years ago.

"At the age of seven I had to read the book for the first time. I was hardly able to comprehend the complicated rules. After two years of training, two years of endless behavior lessons with my Grandma, she ordered me to read it a second time. But then I had to write down all the tiny rules she had forgotten to mention before. Twenty forgotten rules she expected me to find," Neville explained. He laughed shortly: "Naturally, she had taught me way too thoroughly and I found only fourteen."

"The same with me," Daphne smiled happily. "Only that my mother never liked etiquette that much and often tried to circumvent the lessons my Grandma expected from us. So I found far more than the twenty allowed forgotten rules." With a sly smile she continued: "But I had to promise Mum that I tell Grandma only about sixteen. I think it's something written in the old-families-chronicles to have your children read this," she joked.

"I read it too," Hermione added. With a small blush she continued: "After Neville asked me to be his Yule Ball date."

Neville pressed her hand again: "Correct behavior is very important for Grandma and our rules are sometimes a bit … unusual. Thanks for the trouble."

"Silly one," Hermione smiled: "Since when is reading some onerous chore for me?"

Daphne giggled: "Only Hermione would like to read this booklet, only Hermione."

.

The first hour of train riding had passed as the door opened and three Slytherin girls popped in for a chat. Only now Harry remembered that this time they hadn't been harassed by Malfoy and his cronies as it had been usual every time. With no more than a disgusted look at Harry he had simply passed the compartment a while ago.

"Are you alright?" Millicent Bulstrode asked. Pansy stayed at the open door while Astoria went to her sister's side and with only a short glance in Harry's direction set down on her other side, gripped her arm and leaned against her shoulder. Slipping off her shoes and putting her feet on the seat her behavior reminded Harry much of a small cat.

"I'm fine," Daphne glared at Millicent, her voice a bit uneasy. The bully girl wasn't impressed and only smiled at her: "Only wanted to ask."

Neither her question nor Pansy's concerned look did anything to sooth Harry's worries. _What had happened between leaving Daphne at the Slytherins' dorm and meeting her today?_ He opened his mouth only to shut it again as Hermione slightly kicked his shin and shook her head. _Damned girls_, he growled silently. _It's wrong if I ask questions and it's wrong if I don't ask_. Daphne noticed Hermione's reaction but didn't comment it. Anxious to switch the conversation she started to speak about the winter break and what they would do. It was the first time that Harry learned about the planned Christmas Party.

"Mum only invited dear friends and close family. Tracey and Blaise will be there, Neville's Grandma and Hermione's parents … two old friends of Harry's family." That last part certainly got Harry's attention. He tensed shortly. Later he would have to ask her. _Sirius and Remus?_ He silently mouthed in Hermione's direction and his friend nodded. Powerful waves of pure joy went through his body and a bit giddy he put his arm around Daphne's waist and pulled her against his side.

Paling and blushing in quick order he hastily released his grip and looked around. It calmed him immensely that everyone showed only sympathetic smiles. Even Astoria didn't glare, but only watched him curiously and especially Daphne's reaction. As Harry tried to enlarge the distance again he found Daphne's arm around him, pulling him nearer again.

"I think it will be very nice." In an afterthought she continued: "Would you like to come too?"

"I don't know …" Pansy started but was interrupted by Millicent: "I'd love to ... and Pansy too." She poked her friend shortly, but not very gently, and Pansy agreed with a sigh: "But we'll better leave our parents at home. They wouldn't be able to behave around Hermione. You know how they are."

"Bloody prats, all together, like most parents," Millicent grinned.

Something must have happened in Hell below, Harry wondered: Pansy not only willing to share a Christmas party with Hermione but even trying to make her more comfortable. Hermione's shocked expression told him that his friend shared this opinion.

"We're on our way again. See you later."

Pansy and Millicent left the compartment. On their questioning look Astoria shook her head and made no move to leave her sister's side. So the two girls closed the door and went away without her.

Daphne loosened her grip around Harry only to put both arms around Astoria and pull her nearer. "And you, Sweety, still going to Draco? I would really like to have you there too. And you know how much Mum and Grandma would love to have you at home. Even Aunt Anne will be with us."

Astoria sighed deeply and huddled up against her sister only the more: "I would love to, but father wanted me to spend time with Draco. Father will be at Malfoy Manor, too." Harry realized – a bit guiltily – that he liked that news. While his relation with Astoria had relaxed since her open support to Daphne in the Great Hall, he really wouldn't miss the sourly expression on Cyrus' face, this 'you're disgusting but regretfully I have to spend time with you and tolerate you'. "And then Professor Snape …" She stopped and looked around nervously.

Daphne frowned: "Professor Snape? What has he to do with your Christmas?"

Astoria hesitated for some moments before she started to explain with a low voice: "He spoke with me one month ago, before the Hogsmeade visit." Harry remembered that he had seen her back then. It had been unusual as second-years normally weren't allowed to take part. "And he spoke with me again last week. He wants me to …"

"Yes?" Daphne urged her gently.

Astoria sighed again: "He wants me to prompt Draco to spend more time with his mother."

"Why would he …" Harry started only to stop midsentence. If Draco spent more time with his mother, he would be less around his father. What interest could Snape have in that matter? Weren't Snape and Malfoy close friends?

"No idea," Astoria answered. "But I like Narcissa more so why should I complain about it?"

.

With more than half of the distance to King's Cross behind them, nobody had expected for another passenger to join them. But exactly that happened as Luna Lovegood opened the door and flopped herself onto the last empty seat, aside from Hermione and across of Astoria. Silently she closed the door and started to stare at Astoria and Daphne with her slightly bulging eyes.

"You're here?" Harry asked after a while with a hoarse voice: "Not with Michael?"

"No," she answered curtly.

Two minutes later, with still no further explanation forthcoming Hermione asked gently: "Why not? I had the impression …"

"No curiosity."

"No curiosity," Hermione asked; her confusion obvious on her face. "I always thought that Michael is the typical Ravenclaw: always reading, always asking."

Luna sighed. "Curiosity is not curiosity, you know?" Hermione stared blankly at her, blinking a few times before she shook her head: "Please explain."

"He's only interested in written knowledge. He asks for explanation but only teachers, only for explanations they would have given his father too twenty years ago. Michael is not interested in something new. Michael doesn't want to increase the overall knowledge. What good is reading if it is the only thing you do? If you don't scrutinize, don't explore, don't invent? Do you want to be known later as 'Hermione-who-read-all-books'? Wouldn't it be better to be remembered as 'Hermione-who-has-written-a-book', 'Hermione-who-found-something-new'?"

Harry stared at both girls. Hermione, often called the 'brightest witch' was equally often called 'bookworm', even from her friends. _No_, he corrected himself, _no from her friends … only from her supposed friends_. But still written knowledge had always been very important to her. Often she found new ways to use her knowledge but until now she hadn't the tendency to invent something completely new like Daphne did with her charms.

How many fourteen-year-old girls could claim to have been in 'Witch Weekly' three times already with an article about a new Charms spell? Yes, Witch Weekly wasn't a very high-class magazine and her spells wouldn't find her way into a class room. But they were small helpers in every day's life; spells hundreds of witches would use and thankfully remember. This drive to leave known ways was something Hermione lacked a bit. Confronted with a problem she would go to the library, while Daphne would use a part of that time to find her very own solution.

Knowing his friend for so long, seeing how her face was working, Harry discerned that Hermione's thoughts were following the same line, coming to the same conclusion.

"I know," Luna continued after a long time of thoughtful silence. "Many regard me as more than a bit barmy. They laugh at me because of the creatures I believe in, because of the way I behave. But that's not important. It is the way I am."

"We don't want you in any other way," Harry commented with a low, earnest voice. He really liked the very special girl and in this moment tried hard to show it.

Hermione, her eyes glinting, pulled Luna into an embrace. "You're not barmy. We others only are sometimes a bit … short-sighted. Or simply too stuck in our patterns of thinking like me. Remember how long I needed to accept Thestrals? No, you're certainly not barmy, Luna. Instead you're the wisest girl around. I'll try not to be too Michael-like in the future."

"I'll publish your first book, Hermione," Neville stated with a soft smile which Hermione reciprocated, still trying to hold back her tears.

Into the following silence Astoria's words dropped, whispered to her sister: "Mother said the same about Luna's mother." As she noticed the attention of everybody, Astoria blushed deeply and tried to hide a bit behind her sister, whispering agitatedly: "Why can't I learn to shut my mouth in time?"

"Because you wouldn't still be my little favorite sister then," Daphne commented with a loving smile. "And you're right: Mother said the same about Luna's mother, more than once." Sympathetically Daphne watched Luna, who had become very silent and pale. "It's not too dire for you to speak about her, Luna, I hope."

Luna shook her head and whispered, still a bit shaking: "No, it is okay." But she allowed Hermione too strengthen the embrace and leaned against the older girl.

"Mother knew both of your parents, but especially your mother. They had been in the school together, often learned together. My mother wasn't especially good at potions back then and she often needed help with her assignments." Carefully Daphne watched Luna's reactions because she knew that her mother had died in a potions accident, trying to find a cure for an exceptional vicious strand of Dragonpox. "She adored her very much, especially her wisdom."

"She once said that she hoped that you would inherit your mother's wisdom and not your father's gift," Astoria added, paling again as she realized that her statement could easily be interpreted as critic towards Luna's father.

"Mother knew of your father's gift to … to see. She said it would be difficult to live with such a gift. People fear, hate or belittle what they don't understand. I assume your father hasn't many friends."

"No," Luna said hoarsely. "He's alone most of the time, has only a few pen friends."

"But you've us," Hermione stated. "We're your friends. And we believe in you."

"This we do."

.

_Pinegrew Manor_

.

Roxanne Greengrass née Pinegrew was fuming. Daphne had seldom seen her mother agitated like this. The last time had been after her conversation with Sirius six months ago, after he told her about the living conditions at the Dursley House.

Certainly the afternoon hadn't been like her mother had wished. After their arrival at King's Cross and a very loving welcome, Roxanne had told them that they would finish the most important business first: Gringotts and Ministry. But obstacles at every turn had slowly grinded on her nerves. The goblin at Gringotts – someone named Griphook – had been very friendly but equally unhelpful.

"_No, I can't tell you this, Madam. No, I'm not allowed to do this, Madam. I'm so sorry about the inconvenience, Madam_."

After the tenth time that Griphook told them what he couldn't do, Daphne shared her mother's wish to strangle the creature. Apparently Harry wasn't allowed to have a look, wasn't allowed to visit his vault – at least not without his guardian. And who was his guardian, his magical guardian? Right: no one else than splendid Albus twinkle-eyes Dumb-Dork. The same trustworthy – Daphne spat – headmaster whose machinations they intended to investigate.

Deciding to defer the matter to another day they had gone to the Ministry, hoping to finish the adoption at least. One hour and visits to half a dozen offices later they left the Ministry again – without the adoption contract but a bag full of formulas, ready to be triplicated. A delay of at least one month the irritated clerk had announced – at least.

"That's Albus doing," Roxanne glared. With a cry of fury she kicked the wall. Daphne could only stare. Her mother never lost her countenance like this.

"Yes, it's obvious," Agatha agreed, completely ignoring her daughter's little temper tantrum. Daphne noticed that her Grandma was much more relaxed. _She had anticipated this_, Daphne realized. "He has no legitimate reason to deny you your request. So he's trying to annoy you. He's playing for time."

"And what shall we do now?"

"Three things," Agatha started, counting with her fingers. "First: calm down," she said with a smile, earning a huff from her daughter. "Look who's speaking. You remember from which side I inherited my temper?"

"I have no idea," Agatha grinned. "Second: You wanted to visit Madam Guila tomorrow. Use the time and visit her this evening. I'm sure all of you could use something positive now."

Roxanne nodded with a sigh.

"And third: I'll visit some friends," Agatha finished. "Our wonderful Chief Warlock isn't the only one with friends at the Ministry. Amelia certainly owns you more than a small favor after the incident with her niece. And I'll beg Wyvernclaw to be there tomorrow for your next conversation about Harry's inheritance. He's the supervisor of the Pinegrew vaults. I don't trust this Griphook, I don't trust friendly Goblins."

.

_Knockturn Alley_

.

It certainly was a real new experience to be here. Was it even allowed for them? More than once every single teenager had been warned never to enter the Knockturn Alley and now they were ready to face the music. They had changed into some seedier clothes and drunk some Polyjuice Potions to change their appearance. Harry seemed to like his Jackie Chan look and Daphne was a really convincing Massai beauty now. Perhaps they weren't awful ordinary in their outlook, but Hermione didn't argue that they looked more dangerous than a bunch of teenagers following a society lady.

_Borgin & Burke_ – she had heard about that shady shop. Malfoy was allegedly a regular there and it wasn't hard to imagine the snob entering the store to buy some dark and dangerous item, items like the book he had given to Ginny Weasley two years ago. Neville grabbed Hermione's elbow and dragged her towards the shop where the others were waiting. He was right: This was certainly not the place for day-dreaming and shop window staring.

_Madam Guila – Wands since 1712_

Below the name – bleached but still readable – was written: Diagon Alley 43.

Hermione wasn't able to remember if such a number even existed in Diagon Alley and if: what shop there stood at the moment. But she was quite certain that they had left that other street some minutes ago.

"The wand shop had previously been in Diagon Alley," Roxanne explained as she opened the door and waited for the teenagers to enter. She had noticed Hermione's stare at the shield and especially spoken in a manner to urge the shopkeeper to explain something that could be useful information. Hermione nodded curtly and entered, noticing the large number of protection runes on door and window frames. She sensed the wards that were protecting the shop. Had Ollivander's shop been the same?

"Good evening!" They were greeted by a young lady, certainly below thirty. She wore a simple and not very revealing dark green dress and had here long hair in a practical bun.

Roxanne closed the door and went confidently towards the young lady, exchanging a short hug with her. "It has been a long time, Guila. I'm happy to see you all healthy."

Guila smiled friendly. Hermione noticed the difference to the slightly mystic appearance and behavior of Mister Ollivander. Seeing her on the street, certainly nobody would have guessed Madam Guila's occupation.

"And this is certainly your famous guest …" Guila added with a smile as she went forward. For a moment Hermione could hear Harry's groan "not again". It wouldn't be the first time that some shopkeeper started to hyperventilate around the boy-who-lived.

"… Mister Neville Longbottom, I'm happy to meet you in person at last."

_What?_ Hermione boggled. A sigh of relief left Harry's throat while Neville stared at the lady with wide eyes. He was seldom greeted like this and most of the times only his ability to melt cauldrons was mentioned.

"I heard so much about you and your talent with plants. A talent I sorely lacked to Madam Sprout's regret." The name of his favorite teacher did wonders to calm down Neville.

"You have to know, Neville," Roxanne added with a sly grin "that Madam Sprout liked Guila very much, despite her black thumb. At least she did until Guila destroyed her wand one day."

"It was an accident," Guila growled. "And you don't have to tell everyone." Further addressing Neville again she continued slightly softer: "She got a new wand from my father after that, way better than her old one."

As Roxanne started to object, Guila stopped her with a menacing gesture and a glare.

"By the way: Roxanne is correct about this shop formerly stationed in the Diagon Alley. Regretfully the Ministry in its all-encompassing wisdom decided fifteen years ago to evict us after more than 250 years."

Location: Knockturn Alley.

History: Evicted.

Appearance: no more than 10 years since school.

Three reasons not to trust this Madam Guila and her abilities but somehow Harry liked her. She had humor, she was friendly and she didn't make a fuss about him. That she obviously was well-liked by Roxanne and trusted by Agatha certainly helped.

"Why would they evict you?" _Leave it to Hermione to ask in-depth questions_, Harry smiled.

Somehow they had found their place around a ramshackle table with no two chairs the same. Madam Guila somewhere found a tea pot and a number of varied cups and mugs. While she answered the question, Roxanne took a seat and started to fill the cups with some kind of green tea.

"Fifteen years ago the Ministry – trying to take control of young would-be Death Eaters – forbade any other wand shop than the one of Mister Ollivander. It was only the last step to exterminate every competition, something they started more than forty years ago." She accepted a filled mug from Roxanne with a smile and leaned against the wall.

"As you certainly noticed, we're not a wand shop but a second hand book shop which coincidentally sells some wands too." She gestured towards the walls to the left and right and really: Hermione noticed a small number of book shelves with around two hundred books, mostly about plants and creatures of all kind.

Guila sipped her tea and watched Hermione with a knowing smile, watched as the girl tried to process the information. Putting her mug down on the table Guila continued: "The Ministry and Headmaster Dumbledore believed that Mister Ollivander is especially trustworthy and willing to cooperate in a manner most other wand crafters weren't willing to. Have you never wondered why every student has to buy his wand at that shop, why the wands are already crafted and not customized? The reason is simple: Mister Ollivander informs Ministry and school about every wand he sells."

"How should this be helpful? What could the Ministry learn about me with this information?" Hermione narrowed her eyes. Terms like data security crossed her mind, something every Muggle student knew about but certainly not many wizards and witches.

"They know which wand you use, which 'character' your wand – and with that you in person – has. And then there is the tracking spell, not to forget that specialty."

"You mean that tracking spell that allows the Ministry to sense if an under-age wizard uses magic?"

"Partially, yes. But there is much more. Perhaps you already realized that there are differences how the Ministry handles under-age magic. Let me show you." She put a piece of paper on the table and casted four spells, one on each teenager wand. Four lines appeared on the paper, the name of three spells and the notation that no spell was on Neville's wand.

"As expected: Mister Longbottom's wand hasn't a trace spell on it, as it is the wand of his father. He would only face problems should he use magic in an observed location like Diagon Alley or a known wizard home. Miss Greengrass has the usual wizard family tracker on her wand. It ignores spells cast from a short list of useful but harmless spells, like hair altering or feather light spells and more or less everything she casts at home. Miss Granger wears the standard Muggleborn spell. It reports any spell she casts out of school. You notice: Muggleborn tracking is far stricter. The reaction time is also much shorter and the punishment direr. It is because the Ministry still believes Muggleborn to be less trust worthy, a certainly very intelligent assumption after the last war."

She said the last sentence without humor but a large amount of disgust. With a sigh Guila hinted at Harry's wand: "This one has a very special tracking spell on it. As far as I can judge it not only informs the Ministry but one other person too about every spell cast WITH this wand and AROUND this wand within a radius of 20-30 feet. I don't know who this person is but I have a guess." Guila hadn't to tell a name, everyone guessed the same person behind this special wand.

"By the way I wonder why Ollivander gave you this wand. He is certainly a very accomplished and experienced wand crafter and seller. Usually the wands aren't perfect for the wearer but well enough. But this one … either your character changed in the past three years or this wand was never really meant for you. It is very strong, one of the strongest I've ever seen so far. But it is only compatible for you, not really meant. Yes, it is better than Mister Longbottom's used wand but still … do you have an idea why he wanted you to have this wand?"

Harry shook his head, confused about all these information. He still tried to digest that there was not only one kind of tracking spell but at least two. Hermione was certainly boiling inwardly about this new way to mistreat Muggleborns. "Perhaps it is," Harry started slowly "because it is the twin of the wand you-know-who used … crafted with the same wood and with feathers from the same phoenix. That's at least what Mister Ollivander told me."

"That makes sense," Guila agreed. "I'm a bit surprised that they didn't use his femur to create your wand," she grinned with no small amount of humor in her voice.

"At all events you'll have to decide if you prefer the stronger wand or one especially crafted for you, customized to your needs, talents and character."

Harry pondered about that. He liked the wand and as Guila said it was quite strong. But a customized wand and hopefully without that special tracker on it …

To answer his silent question Roxanne explained: "Neville was … the trigger … to visit Madam Guila. But with all of you already fourteen and fifteen years old and your magical cores somewhat stabile, I thought you're old enough to get your own two customized wands."

"Two?" Hermione wondered. "How can you have two wands?"

"Inherently you can't," Guila responded. "I'll create a heavily customized wand for you. You'll choose the wood, the core, the runes for the grip and the used crystal. All of them aren't changeable later aside from the crystal, which is used to enhance a kind of spell you prefer. Should you wear your old wand too, they would interfere with each other. Naturally you can store your old wand away to have him as a reserve, but then you have to register both wands. In case of committing a crime, both wands would be snapped."

She sighed. "To my regret I would have to follow that silly wizard-family/Muggleborn order of the Ministry about that. Even Mister Longbottom's new wand would have such a spell on it. For the wands of Miss Greengrass, Mister Potter and Miss Granger I would use a Pinegrew-Family-Tracker."

Hermione threw a quizzical look at Roxanne, who only whispered: "We speak about that later."

"But with a brand new wand," Guila continued "you have the possibility to craft two wands at once. The second one uses the same wood and core, but no crystal and weaker runes. It is 'the weaker twin', far less powerful and accurate but still usable in case you're disarmed or your wand destroyed in a fight. It is not possible to create such a twin afterwards."

"Previously," Roxanne interrupted "this was far-spread usage. It only stopped shortly before my mother went to school, as they started to sell pre-crafted wands. Naturally the official explanation wasn't the monitoring factor but the lower price." She sneered unladylike.

After all four teenagers agreed, Guila gathered the boxes and rune books she needed. "Let's start."

.

_Pinegrew Manor – Evening_

.

It had been a long evening. With prices ranging from one hundred thirty to two hundred eighty the new wand pairs would cost many times more than a usual Ollivander wand. But Roxanne was convinced that it was worth it. And wealth had to be used, not stored away.

She sighed, playing with her tumbler of Armagnac.

"You should tell them, Roxy, this evening, before you go to the Ministry."

"I know, mother," Roxanne glared. Much softer she repeated: "I know." Carefully she put the tumbler down after emptying it and left the room. She went up to Daphne's room where the teenagers had gathered. They looked up as Roxanne entered.

"Harry … Daphne … I would like to speak with you about something. There is something you should know …"

.

_**A/N**_

_What news does Roxanne have in mind?_

_I spared you the usual list of wood, core etc. because the important points about the wand shop were: all four teenagers have customized wands now (especially Neville) and the news about the Ollivander/Ministry cooperation._


	24. Chapter 24 Painfully honest

**Painfully honest**

.

_Pinegrew Manor – 23rd of December_

.

With his head hanging, Harry entered the breakfast room the next morning. He hadn't found much sleep in the night; and although not troubled with real nightmares, his sleep still had been very uneasy and full of gloomy thoughts.

"Morning," his voice was only a croaky whisper and he hastily avoided the gazes of Hermione, Neville and Daphne who were already sitting at the table.

The silence was oppressive. Daphne never looked up, Hermione's expression was a mix of disappointment and grief and Neville simply glared at him. _Glaring? Really? It wasn't his fault that Roxanne told him the truth last night – that truth_.

.

_The evening before_

.

_"Harry … Daphne … I would like to speak with you about something. There is something you should know …"_

Quickly, Hermione and Neville left the room to allow them some privacy. Slightly pale, Roxanne nodded gratefully and took a seat not far away from Harry and Daphne. Several times she started to speak only to stop herself instantly. Apparently she tried to make up a speech, never convinced that it would be good enough.

"Spit it!" Harry ushered with a small smile. He tried to appear relaxed but Roxanne's behavior had quite the opposite effect on him. "It can't be that bad."

"You know only half of it," Roxanne sighed. "Well, let's start." She showed a very forced smile and then began to tell the story, the story of a contract.

"You should have told me."

Harry's voice was seething with rage. Roxanne nodded weakly: "Yes, I should have … perhaps. I don't know; I really don't." She sighed exhausted. "Would it have been better to tell you before? Before you two had a chance to get to know each other? I didn't want this contract to hang over you like a sword while you try to build up a friendship. I hoped it would be easier to explain and understand if you knew and trusted each other already."

Harry still glared at her, trying to control his temper. It was Daphne who broke the following silence:

"So let me get this clear: There had been this marriage contract for James Potter and you. Our grandfathers expected you both to marry after school. And to allow you to overrule this contract you …"

"You sold us," Harry grated his teeth.

"No," Roxanne shook her head. "It wasn't meant … like this." She sighed again. "Listen: It wasn't the same. Your father loved your mother very much, Harry. He would have obeyed but … it would have broken him, I'm convinced. We hoped to avoid this, to delay the inevitable and perhaps find a better solution."

"And so you decided that it was time for a new contract, one that will force Harry and me to marry." The disappointment in Daphne's voice was unmistakable and it hurt Harry a bit. He had spent the whole day pondering about how to ask her '_do you want to be my girlfriend'_. And now she reacted like the thought of marrying him was outrageous.

_But isn't this the same with me?_ Harry mused. _No_, he answered his own question. _I only don't want to be forced to do this. And it is way too early to think about this. Perhaps she is feeling the same._

Roxanne put two copies of the contract's second part on the table in front of Harry and Daphne. She pointed towards a part of it.

"You aren't forced to marry. It strongly … suggests … such a marriage, but you aren't forced," Roxanne said.

Both read the part in mumbling silence, looking only the more confused afterwards. "I don't understand the meaning of this," Harry mumbled.

"Your grandfathers wanted this marriage, yes. But they learned – at least a bit – from the experience with James and me. They allowed a loophole. If you won't do anything about it, you have to marry in the time between Daphne turning seventeen and Harry turning twenty one. But: If you both decline this wish, you have the possibility to do so. You have both to be at least seventeen to do so and you both have to declare that you don't want this marriage."

"So we really don't have to marry?" he asked.

"No," Roxanne nodded sadly. "After the past months I would like very much to see you being close friends, a pair hopefully and perhaps someday even a married couple. I think you would do wonderful together. But you don't have to. But you should really try to get to know each other and trust each other. As I said: you have to declare BOTH that you don't want to marry. And then there is the last article."

She pointed towards it: "If you decline the marriage, then you're only allowed to marry another person with the consent of the other one. So Daphne would have to ask Harry for permission and vice versa. You certainly understand that it would be easier if you're at least friendly to each other for that to happen."

.

"Would you have told me about this without Sirius visiting you?" Harry asked after a while, a bit calmed down again.

"I would have," Roxanne nodded: "But later. I would have allowed both of you to grow up and after turning seventeen and leaving school I would have asked you. I would have expected that you're against such a marriage, not knowing each other. We would have settled the papers and gone our ways again."

Roxanne stared intensely at her godson, hoping that he would understand her reasons. "I wanted you to know this before we go to the Ministry. I should have told you before we went there today. But I … I was afraid, afraid that you would say no to the adoption, say no to live with us. I really like you Harry. I love you as a son and I'm sure that my mother and Daphne share my feelings. We all would love to have you here with us."

"Then why haven't you been there before? Why did you allow Dumbledore to take me to the Dursleys?"

Roxanne saw the hurt in his eyes, the disappointment and the betrayal. She understood why he felt that way but she had her reasons, back then. "It was a very difficult time. _He_ was dead, but many of his followers still lived. They would have loved to kill you … you, a baby. My husband wasn't a Death Eater, but he was friends with many of them, especially Lucius. I couldn't trust him with your life. And then there were my own children. Daphne was there and Astoria on the way. I'm sorry, Harry, but I was young and I wanted to protect my children.

"And then Dumbledore told me about Sirius' betrayal. We now know that we had been wrong, but back then it only showed that we couldn't trust anyone. If even Sirius could betray your parents, whom could I trust? Dumbledore decided that you would live with your Aunt. He explained that you would be secure there; that there would be wards to protect you against _Him_ and his followers; and that even Lucius wouldn't find you. And I know that they searched for you. They were searching when they tortured the Longbottoms and they were searching when Cyrus tried to pump me for information. I really thought that this would be the most secure way."

"You could have looked. You could have visited me, see how I was treated. Perhaps I've been secure there, but never happy!" Harry whispered furiously.

"I now know, Harry," Roxanne said near tears. "I trusted Dumbledore as he said that you would have a real family. His reasoning, that it would be good for you to live in the Muggle world for a while, was convincing. Nobody would be looking for you in the Muggle world. And why should I question the love of your Aunt? Later, when you came to Hogwarts, there was Draco Malfoy and the planned engagement first to Daphne, then to Astoria. You have to know that Cyrus never knew about this contract – he still doesn't know – so he planned to engage Daphne to Draco. Before I had a chance to explain, Daphne made it quite clear what she thought about the matter. I hesitated too long, I didn't know …

"Harry, I'm really sorry about what happened and how I acted. Please forgive me, that – out of fear for my children and out of trust for Dumbledore – I betrayed the trust of your parents. I want to amend for what I've done. I never expected that your Aunt would be like this."

"Did you know her?"

"Your Aunt? Yes. Your Uncle? Never. I met Petunia a few times and my memories make it very hard to understand that she could treat you like this, like a personal house elf, and an unloved to add." Roxanne sighed deeply and blew her nose.

"Petunia loved your mother very much." Harry snorted unbelievingly, but Roxanne nodded forcefully. "She really did. You should have seen her at your mum's funeral. She was broken, devastated. I know that Lily and Petunia had some serious arguments, but she never ceased to love her. I assume that Petunia felt a bit betrayed and deserted as Lily went to Hogwarts alone. Did you know that Petunia wanted to be there too? Your mother told me once that Petunia wrote Dumbledore a letter to accept her."

_Petunia? At Hogwarts?_ Harry stared at her with wide eyes. _Unbelievable, unacceptable_.

"And then your grandparents had been killed. Petunia put the blame on Lily and your mother accepted the accusation. You know, Harry," Roxanne continued with a small smile "This tendency to accept the blame for anything bad that happens, you inherited it from your mother … certainly not your father." For a moment Harry glared at her, but before he could ask, Roxanne continued.

"Perhaps Petunia blamed you for your mother's death. It would be wrong but understandable. Your mother had been her last family; to lose her was quite a stroke for Petunia. And with a pig like your Uncle as a husband it certainly came relatively easy to her to punish you for her loss. I really don't accept what she did – really it was completely inexcusable. But I try to understand how she could change like that. She really should have loved you."

.

_Present_

.

_How long had he been sitting here in silence?_ Harry mused, startled as a chair scraped over the floor. _How long had they … how long had Daphne waited for a reaction, any reaction?_

"Excuse me," Daphne whispered as she left her seat. She started to walk towards the exit, getting faster with every step. The glares of Hermione and Neville increased tenfold. Hundreds of thoughts raced through Harry's mind as he watched his friend … his girlfriend? … fleeing him. Certainly she had interpreted his silence in a wrong way, thought that he regretted, that he was angry with her as well as with her mother. But she erred in her assumption, oh how much she erred.

He had thought much about the last evening, but much more about what Roxanne said about his parents, Petunia, Sirius and Dumbledore than about the contract. The point of the contract had long been checked off in his mind. Yes, he had been angry. Yes, he would have liked to learn about it earlier. And even more he would have liked that their parents and grandparents had never agreed to such a stupidity.

But she had told him. And they left a loophole. Roxanne's reasoning about getting to know each other had been comprehensible. He trusted Daphne now… their relation had changed much since the summer. They would find a solution. He had no idea if he wanted to marry her later, but he had several years to find out. And he was certainly not angry towards her.

The waves of her hurt that flooded the room prompted Harry to react at last. He ran after her, reaching her as she tried to open the door. He was shocked that he saw tears running down her face. She tried to suppress her sobs, to force the door open against his grip. Without a word Harry embraced her, hugged her heartily. For a while she resisted, mumbling something incomprehensible. Then, from one moment to the next, she let go all resistance and melted into his arms. A bit awkward Harry started to pat her back. At least Hermione and Neville stopped glaring now. Hermione's expression softened immensely and Neville nodded approvingly.

"I don't want … I don't want that this changes anything between us." Harry whispered softly in Daphne's ear. "I don't regret the kisses after the Ball. And yesterday I … I wanted to ask you … if you want to be my girlfriend." Daphne tensed for a moment and Harry continued to pat her, dragging her even closer. "I only wasn't able to muster enough courage to ask you. And after the conversation I wasn't sure … how you would …"

"Yes."

Harry loosened his embrace and stepped back: "Yes?"

"Yes," Daphne showed a small smile, hastily trying to brush away the tears. Harry stopped her and pulled a hankie, started to clean her face. "You really mean it? But what about the contract," Daphne whispered.

Harry stored his hankie away and gently cupped Daphne's cheek: "We'll find a way. In three years we'll see if you still think that this … this girlfriend thing … is still a good decision of yours and continue on from there."

"Okay," Daphne whispered. Suddenly she smiled: "Apparently you spent enough time with Hermione in the past."

"Why's that?" Harry asked a bit confused.

"Because you start to have so wonderful and reasonable ideas," his girlfriend smiled. _His girlfriend_, Harry thought with a drove of butterflies in his stomach.

"You know, I have wonderful and reasonable ideas all on my own from time to time," Harry pouted.

"You know," Hermione suddenly quipped, her presence long forgotten by the young couple "After you asking her and Daphne saying yes, the third step should be a kiss, Harry."

Harry blushed deeply and shot death glares in Hermione's direction.

"See," Daphne laughed sweetly: "Wonderful and reasonable ideas."

.

_The evening before_

.

"And my father," Harry asked unexpectedly. "How did Petunia feel about him?"

Roxanne sighed and looked uneasy at Harry. "Harry … your father," she hesitated. "Your father was a bit difficult to have around. In the beginning he was … no, there isn't a polite way to say it; I fear … he was a real prat. Until around his sixteenth birthday it wasn't easy to like him, neither for me nor your mother and certainly not Petunia. Thankfully, she only met him a few times and he didn't make a good impression. I'm convinced that Petunia thought of him as a bad influence on Lily and despised the idea of them being a couple. With you looking quite like him, I assume that she transferred some of her antipathy on you … like others did too."

"Like Snape," Harry sneered.

"Yes, like Severus," Roxanne agreed. "I heard about it and it was certainly not appropriate how he treated you. No, that's too feeble: His behavior was, and is, disgusting and totally unprofessional. But you have to understand that he had reason to hate your father, nearly as much as he had reason to hate Sirius."

Harry glared at her. _How could she belittle the remembrance of his father, and say something like that about his godfather? Sirius had been the one to send her to Privet Drive to rescue him_.

"Harry, you adore your father and Sirius. You love your father and godfather and this is right and justified. But you have to understand that everybody changes in the course of his life. We mature, we experience, we learn. James and Sirius had been careless, reckless and arrogant in their youth. They were extremely intelligent and talented, and they knew it. They had no qualms about playing pranks on everybody and showing off at every opportunity.

"If you don't believe me," she continued "think about this question: James tried to be Lily's boyfriend since the third year. Why did she say no every time, why did she decline every invitation to Hogsmeade, and why did she only agree in their last year, after four years of courting?"

Both stayed silent for some minutes before Harry whispered: "Because he matured?"

"Exactly," Roxanne agreed. "He matured. Somehow – I don't know exactly when and which was the trigger for the change – he started to see that Lily wanted a more mature friend, someone who was willing and able to learn, to be compassionate, to accept responsibilities. James changed and he changed enough that at the end of our school I more than once regretted that I had agreed not to marry him.

"Yes, Harry, in the end I loved your father. Perhaps I wasn't really in love, but certainly I loved him. He was intelligent, charming and dashy. And he loved your mother and you with all his heart. I'm sure that your mother's last two years were filled with luck and happiness around him. At the end he was that man you imagine, that man you love and adore, but he hadn't always been that way."

.

"Do I resemble him?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"In a way, yes. And I neither mean your looks nor your talent to fly. You are certainly often too reckless, too inconsiderate in your actions, and prone to acting instead of thinking or asking for help. But there are sides in you that remind me of your mother even more. And I don't only mean that you're better at Charms – Lily's strength – than at Transfiguration – which had always been James' favorite. You are willing to listen to your friends, and to reason. You have this compassionate side in you that drive you and like your mother you sorely lack any hurtful tendency. I'm quite certain that you wouldn't willingly hurt someone and should you do it accidently, you would feel bad afterwards.

"That had been one of their gravest faults in the first years. While the Marauders were a close bunch of friends and did some adorable things together – especially how they helped Remus – they didn't behave like that to everyone. You may think it to be funny when someone is pranked, you may think that this someone deserved it. But do you really assume that the target of the prank feels the same? How would you feel about someone who constantly harassed you, pranked you and embarrassed you?

"The Marauders loved to prank the Slytherins. They were very inventive at that and seldom had to face severe repercussions. An evening of detention is not enough, at least not in the eyes of a prank's target who has to face embarrassment perhaps for weeks. And it certainly didn't teach Sirius and James that it is sometimes simply wrong to behave like this.

"Even Minerva had a soft spot for them. She was never like Severus in her favoritism, but like most teachers she tended to listen more to the Gryffindor side, tended to assume the worse from Slytherins. Yes, often it was founded – the Slytherins are certainly not a bunch of daisies – but in the long run it is disheartening when every teacher first assumes that you're the culprit only because of the house you're in. And Dumbledore always preferred the Marauders. Sometimes he even overruled Minerva's harsher punishments. Perhaps he relived his own youth through them, felt young again. This preference even went so far …"

Roxanne stopped midsentence. Harry waited for a while before he urged: "So far …"

"I … I don't know if I should tell you. It is about your father but especially Sirius and Severus. It is not my place to tell you … perhaps you should ask Sirius about it … about the Shrieking Shack incident."

"Would he tell me the truth about it?"

"Perhaps not," Roxanne sighed. "He was the culprit and it isn't easy to live with that kind of guilt, to accept it – especially as he never learned to accept responsibility for his deeds."

"Wow, wow, wow," Harry stopped her. "Have you forgotten? Twelve years in Azkaban … he certainly …"

"No," Roxanne interrupted him. "Azkaban was an awful error, but it wasn't the consequence of what he did. He landed there because of Pettigrew's betrayal. He more than paid for everything he ever done through these twelve years, for every small crime, every prank and every insult. But they did nothing to let him grow up. He always had the excuse: I'm here because of a betrayal.

"Sirius never had to accept the consequences of his pranks, his reckless deeds or his irresponsible behavior towards girls. You know, in the simple way of child's and pet's rearing: Do something and receive immediate punishment; connect deed and punishment. And more important: get explained what you did wrong and why it had been wrong. These twelve years he was not a free adult, these twelve years he had not the chance to interact with other adults, they denied him the chance to really grow up.

"I fear that he still is unable to see the error of his actions back then. I'm certain that he never apologized to Severus. Perhaps he apologized to Remus, but never to Severus. The last time he still called him Snivellus. I'm sure that he would be a fabulous big brother in the way the Weasley twins are now, but he isn't father material … not yet."

"My parents thought otherwise."

"No, they didn't … or only in parts. Your father … yes. Sirius was his closest friend and in good standing with James' parents. But your mother never wanted him to rear you. She would have preferred you to grow up at Longbottom Manor with Neville as your brother."

_She couldn't be right in her judgment of Sirius, could she_? His heart rebelled against the idea of Sirius doing anything wrong. _He called him Snivellus. That was funny, wasn't it_? _Snape deserved any prank played on him. But then_ …

"What did he do to him?"

Roxanne looked thoughtfully at him. It wasn't her place, but he deserved to know, deserved to understand.

"Okay, I will tell you. But promise me that you ask Sirius, allow him to tell you his side of the matter. I certainly don't know all sides and points about that incident. I only want to prompt you to think about it, to think about both sides and realize that every action and behavior has more than one cause. It is seldom so simple."

Harry agreed and Roxanne continued: "Severus had a bad home. I don't want to tell you more about it but it was really bad, even compared to your living with the Dursleys. He had only one friend … Lily."

"He was friends with my mom?"

"Yes, even years before they met James and Sirius, Lily and Severus were friends. They were very close, as far as I know. But that changed when they reached Hogwarts. Lily was a Gryffindor and Severus a Slytherin. Both had friends in their houses. In Severus' case they were more like companions or allies than friends, as is custom with the Slytherins. Both sides tried to separate them, tried to convince them to stick to 'their own side'. Perhaps they could have fought for their friendship and your mum tried to in the beginning. But these 'House frontiers' were very strong back then and especially among the Slytherins you had to face dire consequences if you didn't accept the one and proper rule: Stick to your own.

"The Marauders constantly harassed him. Certainly, he was bad too and he gave as well as he could. But it was four against one. Perhaps he thought if he were vicious enough, they'd let him live in peace. I don't know, I can't look into his mind and I never was friends with Severus. In the beginning your mother tried to protect him, but somehow this only enforced the pranks even more. Every time she defended him was only a reason to prank him twice afterwards.

"After a while they started to grow apart. They spent less and less time with each other, were barely polite to each other. But still the Marauders made Severus' life miserable, especially in their sixth year. Over the summer his mother had died. Severus needed compassion, he needed Lily. But James and Sirius did all they could to drive him away. More than once they embarrassed him in front of all students. Embarrassment is very hard to endure as a sixteen year old teenager. His closest friends, especially Lucius, had already left the school. He was alone. Severus got very angry and struck back, with nasty insults and curses. He even started to insult your mother. Perhaps he felt betrayed and perhaps he wanted to drive her away to protect himself. And Lily …

"There was a special incident. Sirius and James ridiculed Severus in front of a large number of students, ridiculed him in a despicable way. He hadn't done anything to them, was only there. Lily came to his defense, tried to protect him; but the affair got out of hand, hexes were exchanged and Severus … he called her a Mudblood."

Harry hissed; Roxanne nodded crestfallen. "It was only his pride, his wish to protect the last slice of his pride and he regretted it instantly. But your mother never accepted his apology. For weeks he tried, but she stayed angry at him. Perhaps she wanted to end the friendship, and hoped that it would end the harassment too. She had never been vindictive before or afterwards. I don't know her reasons.

"Then – a few weeks later – Sirius had the idea to do a very serious prank to Severus. I only know about it because I read his medical file while I helped Madam Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. No, it wasn't right for me to do that, Harry. You are not to tell her this, alright?"

Harry nodded and with a sigh Roxanne continued with her story. "You know that Remus spent the times of full moon in the Shrieking Shack, the sole entrance protected by the Whomping Willow?"

"Yes. We … we have been there … Ron, Hermione and I. There we met Sirius the first time as a human, there we discovered Pettigrew."

"I understand. Alright: Nobody ought to know about it, nobody ought to be there with him. But one day Sirius sent Severus to the Shack."

Harry paled. "That's …"

"Dangerous? Awful? Inconsiderate? Yes, it was. Severus had often tried to learn what happened to Remus went he vanished around full moon, but he never found him. So Sirius 'let slip' where Remus would be and how to bypass the Willow. He followed Remus, he found him – changed into a Werewolf."

With a low whisper Roxanne explained: "He only survived because Sirius had told James about it. James followed him, rescued Severus. But Severus … he was shaken … and furious. He believed that James and Remus were part of the prank, that James only rescued him because he wanted to protect Remus. And that had been the second part Sirius didn't think about: What would happen to Remus? How would he react, feel, if he learned that he killed someone?"

"They would have sent him to Azkaban," Harry whispered back in tears.

"Yes, they would have. But most important his conscience would have broken Remus. He is one of the kindest men I ever met. The knowledge that he had killed someone would have destroyed him. The fear to hurt someone caused him to never date someone he really liked for the past ten years. I'm certain that this particular incident only reinforced his fear."

The following silence was oppressive. In the end it was Daphne who asked the important question: "What happened afterwards? What happened to Sirius?"

Harry looked up flabbergasted as he heard the simple answer: "Nothing."

Roxanne shrugged: "Alright, not 'nothing'. He got detention, a month's worth of detention. But that's hardly an appropriate punishment for nearly destroying the lives of two people. Sirius should have been expelled from Hogwarts for what he did, not merely a light slap on the wrist. I strongly see the hand of Dumbledore in the matter. I can't accept the idea that even Minerva would have allowed Sirius to walk away like that."

Hard as it was to admit: If her story was true – and Harry was determined to ask Sirius about it – that had been a very bad deed, something that should have been punished severely.

"You know, Harry, Narcissa Malfoy once told me that this had been the reason, the trigger, for Severus to follow the Dark Lord for a while. I don't know if she's correct, but I'm sure that this incident and the lack of repercussions was a very important point for him. He was already tending to the Dark side, partially under the influence of Lucius. But that moment was a point of decision, a point of committing a grave error or see reason. His own tendencies, Lucius' influence, and the push of Sirius' deed: Which part had how much influence?

"Severus is certainly a git most of the time. He's proud, caustic and eager to insult everyone. It certainly has its reasons that I never liked him, even in school. But only a few people turn bad completely on their own account. Think about your cousin Dudley. He's a pig, isn't he? But how much of it is his own fault and how much had it been the impact of his father and how Dudley was reared? With another father, with another childhood, with someone to show him what's wrong and right … don't you think he could have been a completely different boy? Is Dudley evil or simply badly brought up?"

"He has a malicious streak, but Uncle Vernon had been a bad example, bad influence. And he never tried to parent him," Harry replied.

"You could say the same about Severus, I assume. He has a malicious streak, but he has also his good sides. A weak, depressive mother and a brutal, abusive father certainly weren't the best conditions for his childhood. Some persons become good persons despite those conditions. You're an example of that kind. But you have to understand that you are a very special case. Many others would have turned into vicious rats after ten years with the Dursleys. That makes their behavior so contemptible: The – possible – repercussions on your whole life.

"We'll never know if Severus would have chosen to follow Lucius Malfoy without the Marauders, but they had certainly been a decisive factor. He nearly died there in the Shack. A sixteen-year-old boy nearly killed by an angry Werewolf. And afterwards the Headmaster had the nerve to order him to stay silent, blackmailed him to tell nobody what happened. Without the medical file, without Narcissa even I wouldn't know about it. Perhaps I'm wrong; perhaps I miss some important pieces. But if I'm right then Severus has every reason to hate at least Sirius. And after five years enduring James' insults and pranks, James' hate and disgust, he certainly had no reason to believe him that he wasn't part of the …"

Gloomy she looked Harry in the eye: "It was a crime, what Sirius did. It was not – as Dumbledore said – a prank."

.

_**A/N**_

_Do you know this situation? You start to write and it grows longer and longer. I really didn't expect this chapter to be this long. Now it is time for a bit of Ministry talk and Gringotts business._


	25. Chapter 25 Boiling Rage and Cold Fury

_**A/N**_

_About __**Snape**__: I've added a number of sentences to chapter 24. _

_No, Snape is certainly not a nice guy and he'll never be. He's not a (classical) hero. And most of his faults are … his own faults. But also James and Sirius aren't the heroes Harry saw in them (or hoped them to be). Roxanne only wanted to show Harry that most of the time a person has several reasons to behave like he does, that it is not so easy to decide who's the good guy and who's the bad one. __**N Flamel**__ called it "shades of grey". _

"_Own tendency, Lucius' influence and the push of Sirius' deed: Which part had which influence?" _

_That's my main question about the intellectual development of Snape. We'll never know. Yes, __**Harry**__ wasn't the same; he didn't give in to all the pressure. But: Harry is the hero of this story, so there has to be something special about him. If struggling against dire conditions would be so easy, how could you call someone heroic "only" for being successful in the struggle? _

_Snape's behavior as a teacher is disgusting and it is certainly mostly his fault again. But: Shouldn't Dumbledore be blamed too? What is more disgusting: A young teacher (I assume Snape didn't change much in the past decade) running amok in a hated job (a job he never wanted and only accepted on Dumbledore's pressure) or a Headmaster with decades of experience allowing him to do so unopposed despite better knowledge?_

_ Blacksaiyan: Thank you for Beta-reading._

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**Boiling rage and cold fury**

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_Ministry of Magic – 23__rd__ of December – Midmorning_

.

Even the bleak prospect of having to endure that prick of a Ministry official again, was not enough to quench the good mood of Roxanne Greengrass.

_He said yes_, Roxanne cheered silently. _He has forgiven me. He'll accept the adoption. He's still together with Daphne_. The silly grin never left her face as she watched the young couple. Something had changed, but changed for the better. Harry was walking at Daphne's side, hands clasped most of the time. Several times he had hugged her and twice she had observed a stolen kiss. Perhaps she should be afraid that there would be 'The Talk' with her daughter in the near future, but in the moment she was simply too happy.

"We have a little spare time before our appointment," Agatha suddenly interjected, forcing her daughter out of her daydreams. "Why don't we settle that little present shopping you had in mind, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed as all began to stare at her. She nodded weakly: "Okay."

With more than one puzzled look her friends followed Hermione to _Eeylops Owl Emporium. _Stopping in front of the shop she turned towards Neville.

"You know that I like Trevor, right, Neville?"

Neville only nodded, looking completely confused.

"He's a very nice … toad. But he often … you have often … you lose him and … it is complicated."

Agatha smiled as she watched how Hermione struggled with words. It was a bit disappointing when Harry bailed her out too fast: "She wants to tell you, that it would be better to leave Trevor at home where he has enough room, plants and water around, and where he would be happier." Hermione had told him about her plans and he had happily agreed. Too often Neville had been the target of jokes and insults because of Trevor.

Relieved Hermione agreed: "Yes, exactly. He would be happier there. And … and because you're allowed to have one pet at Hogwarts it thought I could buy you an owl instead. As a Christmas present, you know?"

Anxiously she waited for his reaction. For a while Neville stayed silent, his face blank, pondering. Then he smiled, instantly reciprocated by Hermione's own. "You're right. He'll be happier. We have ponds there and many plants and insects and all. I really would like my own owl." The following shout of Hermione was more of a squeak as she hugged Neville happily and entered the emporium.

.

Ciddy had been called to bring Mandy – Neville's new owl – home. Harry shook his head, slightly amused that Neville, former paragon of shyness and silence, had chosen the owl with the loudest and most screeching voice. Hermione had instantly suggested the name Mandragora and Neville obviously liked the name – if only because of Hermione and his love for plants. Mandragora, or short Mandy, was a medium-sized and a bit ugly owl. She looked like she had been in more than one fight with other owls before and her stare was impressive enough to cause shudders. But Neville was happy and so Hermione was too.

Walking up to the entry desk at the Ministry of Magic, "Your wand please," said the desk official in a bored tone. Harry couldn't blame him. His job could certainly serve as a reminder that a good NEWT was important. Coincidentally, Harry didn't know what thoughts had just crossed Hermione's mind:

"_Look there, Ron, your next stop after school. Perhaps they'll allow you a fake Auror badge."_

Yeah, it was awful to think so, Hermione pondered. But it was honest too. Ron had two dreams about his future professions: Professional Quidditch and Auror. While Quidditch could be possible perhaps – Hermione didn't know enough about the sport to be able to really judge his talent – she knew quite well that his school performance would never be good enough to be allowed into Auror training, especially now that he had been able to break up with the one person who had pushed him through the exams so far: Her.

"This way, Hermione," Neville whispered and locked arms to drag her into another corridor. "Are you daydreaming or only hoping for more physical contact with me?"

"How cheeky we are today, Mister Longbottom," Hermione grinned. "An unknown side of you, I have to mention."

"Hem hem … behave," Roxanne scolded mockingly and pointed towards a door.

"Where's Agatha," a blushing Hermione asked, only now realizing that they somehow lost Daphne's Grandma underway.

"Fetching someone," Roxanne answered without really explaining anything. Her face switched from happy banter to bored and irritated seconds before she opened the door to the object of her 'hate of the hour', Mister Barnaby Thorpolt, first secretary of the Under-Department of Family Matters. For a second the thought crossed Harry's mind, that he'll have to learn this face control too in the future. Luckily for today he was only present as an observer.

The following quarter hour was exactly like yesterday. Roxanne tried to convince the official that she wanted to settle the matter within the next week and that she certainly hadn't the wish to fill all these papers – containing agreements of Harry, the Dursleys, the School of Hogwarts, Mister and Misses Chepoundatee – no one knew who the hell they could be – and a number other Ministry officials including two janitors. Alright, perhaps she was a bit nasty to call them janitors but they seemed unimportant enough.

Interesting enough Mister Thorpolt stayed very friendly and patient the whole time. He seemed to be not very impressed by the growing irritation, frustration and anger of the lady in front of him. Instead it appeared that he enjoyed the whole matter, enjoyed it a little bit too much. _Someone really had instigated him_, Harry pondered.

"You know," Daphne whispered in Hermione's ear "we could simply hex him. A painful rash at his bottom, an itch on his back, a little bit of a headache …"

"Yeah, that would be nice and certainly convincing," Hermione whispered back.

"I don't like that look on the faces of our girlfriends," Harry mentioned to Neville.

"You only now realize that you ought to be really careful not to piss them off?" Neville asked back with a snigger, prompting his girlfriend to send a calculating and amused look in his direction, her all too sweet smile sending shivers down his spine.

Luckily the farce ended before something – rash – happened. Agatha Pinegrew entered the office, followed by none other than Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE and perhaps the most well-known and certainly most feared Ministry Official around. Mister Thorpolt's demeanor instantly switched into groveling and smooth-talking. "Good morning, Misses Bones. Happy to see you, Misses Bones. How may I help you, Misses Bones?"

He even had the audacity and tried to evict Roxanne and the teenagers, suddenly staring at them like they were an especially ugly kind of insect.

"No, Mister Thorpolt, actually I'm here because of my very dear friend Lady Roxanne Greengrass," Amelia purred – way too sugary to be believable even for a tosser like Thorpolt.

He blinked heavily as slowly realization sank into his brain. In the same time all blood left his head and his knees buckled. Fortunately Harry reacted fast enough to push his chair behind his back, allowing him to save at least a very small amount of dignity instead of crushing down to the floor.

"Your very dear friend …" Thorpolt croaked. "I … I didn't know."

"Ah, it's not really important, only a small anecdote. On occasion I should tell you how it happened that my favorite niece owes Lady Roxanne's daughter" she pointed towards Daphne who showed her friendliest smile "a life debt."

Now the very last rests of blood left his face. Life debts were a very serious matter and absolutely everyone at the Ministry with any hope to get promoted in the next decade knew about Susan Bones and how important she was to her Aunt. This situation could easily turn disastrous to his career.

Harry pondered: _Life debt?_ He would assume that it wasn't really the case. A life debt normally came into existence when someone rescued another person, like he had done with Ginny in the Chamber of Secrets. Not that he ever wanted to call in that debt. But on the other side Susan had nearly killed Hermione with the poison and it was only luck that Daphne never drank from the bottle. Without her noticing the smell … suddenly Harry paled too. He never had realized before that this damned bottle could have been the death of Daphne too. And without her immediate help it could have been too late to rescue Hermione. Susan Bones would have faced a murder charge and even with a non-guilty verdict it would have besmirched her reputation for decades to come. So it wasn't a lie, what Amelia Bones said, but at all events an exaggeration.

Suddenly Thorpolt went out of his way to be helpful. Most of the papers weren't really needed – suddenly those persons had only to be informed and not forced to agree – and others could be waved with Amelia's consent. Hermione had seen such a scene once before. Her father had tried to get a letter of permission and the official had been very unwilling. At least until father called one of his patients at the dental practice: The Mayor.

No more than thirty minutes later, Thorpolt had all of the needed papers ready and with Amelia willing to testify the case file …

"I congratulate you, Harry Potter-Pinegrew, to your adoption and new magical guardian." Light-heartedly Harry accepted Amelia's congratulations and the hugs of Daphne, Hermione and Neville. He tried to ignore Thorpolt's crawling and stared at Roxanne.

"You have to decide how you want to call me, Harry. Roxanne would be okay but also all forms of mother and Mum. I don't want to replace your mother but you really belong to our family now. It is left to you."

"I'll," Harry hesitated "I'll think about it."

Roxanne smiled softly and Daphne declared: "You should try it with Roxy."

Roxanne glared at her daughter: "Never Roxy or I'll rock you a little."

Amelia Bones, who had silently watched the happy exchange, suddenly turned to Thorpolt again, her friendly voice now switching to her feared ice storm demeanor: "And now Mister Thorpolt we have to discuss the reasons of your former behavior." Her words nearly caused Thorpolt to faint againg.

.

_Office of Amelia Bones – Noon_

.

"Dumbledore?" Hermione was shocked.

After her small but deadly inquisition of Thorpolt, Amelia had led the small group – without the very unhappy and newly demoted official – to her office.

"Dumbledore," Harry sighed. "We should have expected something like that." The man he had trusted for years had again tried to influence his life in an unwelcome way.

"Agatha and I did," Roxanne explained. "That's the reason why Mum asked Amelia for help. But to guess something is different to hear it."

"Not only hear," Amelia added, waiving Thorpolt's sworn statement. Amelia had ordered him to make his statement with a magical quill active. The signature of him and Amelia turned the protocol into a sworn statement. "I'll store it away should we ever need it. Here, for you …" She passed a copy to Roxanne.

"But what really incensed me was the reason," Roxanne growled, her glare promising death and damnation. Harry battled hard to suppress a snigger. _Yes, the reason, he would be angry too._

Mister Thorpolt, all in all a very talented and ambitious official, had been at odds with Lucius Malfoy a few years ago. Apparently Lucius had been behind Thorpolt being passed over at the chance of a very important promotion. Thorpolt never forgave him his meddling. A few days ago now Headmaster Dumbledore contacted Thorpolt and innocently asked if Lady Greengrass had already been there, _Lord Malfoy's very dear friend_. With the friendship of Cyrus Greengrass and Lucius Malfoy reasonable well known, Thorpolt had only to ask some colleagues to 'get proof' of Dumbledore's silly comment.

"Lucius' dear friend," Roxanne growled again. "I'll give him Lucius' dear friend, right up in his …"

"Roxanne, language," Agatha stopped her daughter, her broad smile a bit diminishing the impact of her reprimand.

"It is only important that we have both contracts now," Harry said. "Thank you very much, Misses Bones. Am I correct that this means Lady Greengrass is now my legal and magical guardian in the Muggle and the Magical world?"

"Yes, she is. We still have to send the papers to the Muggle Office. But with the permission from your Aunt Petunia Dursley that Lady Greengrass already got last summer, from this hour on Lady Greengrass is your guardian."

"I have to thank you too, Amelia," Roxanne added. "That man was really grating on my nerves. I don't know how long I would have been able to suppress my urge to hex him. Before we go I have another question and a small request."

"Go on."

"Could you please explain to Miss Granger the process of magical guardianship at Hogwarts for a Muggleborn witch?"

Amelia slowly nodded. She assumed that Roxanne knew the regulations, but wanted Miss Granger to hear it out of her mouth, officially so to say. "Alright. Miss Granger, when your parents allowed you to visit Hogwarts, they additionally agreed to the regular settlement of magical guardianship. Until twenty years ago this would have meant that the Head of your House – in your case Professor McGonagall – would be your guardian. Only a very small number of students – mostly heirs of the most important families – were traditionally assigned directly to the Headmaster. But twenty years ago this had been changed by Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Now it is the other way round. The Headmaster is the magical guardian of all Muggleborn and Muggle-raised – like Harry – students, as well as of any orphan. He only transfers a small amount of his rights to the Heads of the Houses – like subscribing the Hogsmeade visit slip. All important matters he has to settle himself."

"But I wasn't allowed to visit Hogsmeade last year," Harry furiously interjected. "Headmaster Dumbledore told me that he needed the permission of my Uncle."

"No," Amelia shook her head. "That was never the case. Traditionally the Heads of the House like to have the permission from the parents – I'm sure that Minerva wanted one from the Grangers too – to avoid problems, but it is not legally needed. Whereas I have to add that you're a special case. Headmaster Dumbledore put you in that small group of school wards, so Professor McGonagall had no say in the matter."

"We have solved the matter of Harry now," Roxanne started. "Would something similar be possible for Miss Granger? Perhaps only the magical guardianship?"

Hermione threw a surprised and confused look at Roxanne, slowly turning into understanding. "You mean … you could be my magical guardian too?"

"I … or perhaps Lady Longbottom," Roxanne affirmed. Now it was Neville's turn to look flabbergasted. "She already indicated interest." Neville and Hermione shared looks of surprise and joy: Augusta the magical guardian of Hermione?

"I don't see any problems there. Lady Longbottom is certainly beyond any doubts and would be a fabulous magical guardian."

"And," Roxanne continued "could she extend the guardianship to Miss Granger's parents too?"

Hermione was baffled. Why would her parents need guardianship?

"It is unusual but still legally totally perfect," Amelia shrugged. "I'll advise Mister Thorpolt's successor to send you the needed papers. I heard Lady Longbottom will be your guest this Christmas?"

"Yes, she'll be there and the Grangers too." Roxanne addressed Hermione now: "I don't want to catch you unaware, Hermione, but you should think about it. Lady Longbottom is not only a very nice lady but also an extremely respected member of the magical society and a strong-willed person. She would back you up against everybody. And with the magical guardianship about your parents she would be allowed to order some protective wards for your parent's home. We'll speak about it later with her and your parents, okay?"

Hermione nodded weakly. Suddenly her role had changed from silent observer to participant. She glanced at Neville. To her relief her boyfriend smiled. The thought of his Grandma being her guardian seemed to please him. _She would be able to protect her parents_, Hermione grinned.

"Now we handled the question. What about the request?"

"Harry and Daphne are already allowed to cast spells at Pinegrew Manor. Would it be possible to get a special permit for a training room, to allow them lessons with a few of their friends, especially Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom? It is really only of interest for the next two summer breaks, but my mother and I would like to use those weeks for some additional training."

"I'll have to check this, but basically it should be possible. Naturally you would be responsible for every spell cast therein. But yes, I think we can allow this."

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_Gringotts Bank – Late Afternoon _

.

Two hours later they were ready to make their second important visit of the day, their second visit to Gringotts. This visit – so Roxanne hoped – would be far better and more informative than the one yesterday.

They had used their downtime for a small lunch while Agatha taught the teenagers the basics of Goblin etiquette. As a business woman she had much more contact with the Goblins than her daughter and had met so far a large number of very different Goblins. Like with Wizards and Witches there were variants, differences between Goblins. Large or small, old or young, hasty or slow, bored or interested – but they all had two things in common: They were competent in their job and they were unfriendly.

The Goblins had lost the war against Wizards centuries ago and had been forced to obey a number of rules they didn't really like. Most Wizards considered them to be a kind of lower creatures and there was certainly not much love between the races. On the other hand Goblins held a very important position in the Wizarding World: Banker and financier. They were important and they knew it. No reason to behave ungoblinish. So the story Roxanne had told Agatha about this special Goblin called Griphook had been disturbing. It was too close to the behavior Ministry official Thorpolt had shown hours ago and it was completely unnatural for an account supervisor.

"Good morning, I would like to see Master Wyvernclaw please. My name is Harry Potter-Pinegrew." Harry addressed the young Goblin messenger at the entrance of the large room. Half a dozen sheds allowed the Goblins who were working in this room some privacy, enhanced with a number of silence and protection spells. Agatha had explained to him that these were Senior Accountants, responsible for very important families and superiors to a score of 'lesser' clerks who had to deal with the riff-raff.

"Griphook's father had been sitting over there," Agatha whispered while they waited for the young Goblin to come back. "Apparently his family is on the decline if they transferred his son to the great hall." They had seen Griphook in the larger Hall together with two score other clerks, his desk very small and old.

The young Goblin returned and led them to one of the sheds. A very old and grizzled looking Goblin was awaiting them, a number of scars proving that he hadn't always been an accountant. _Perhaps his name wasn't simply for show_, Harry mused. The Goblin grimaced as he noticed the two women accompanying the boy.

"I should have known that this day would be a terrible one."

"Don't fret! I'm not here to control your work," Agatha countered. "You'll still have a few days to polish your books." Flabbergasted the teenagers watched the exchange. Only the tiny smile on Roxanne's face told them that there was nothing unusual about this.

"As if you are able to find even the most blatant embellishments," the Goblin scoffed at her.

"Perhaps I should choose another, a more trustworthy accountant. But today I'm here because of Mister Potter." Agatha gestured Harry to step forward.

Harry was nervous. He had spoken with Agatha about this visit and in theory he knew what he had to do. But still … even Agatha wasn't completely sure how Wyvernclaw would react to his request. It was unusual enough but without his help it would be very difficult to claim his rights.

"Master Wyvernclaw," Harry bowed slightly, trying to hide how uneasy he was under the glare of the old Goblin. "My name is Harry Potter-Pinegrew. Lady Roxanne Pinegrew is my adoptive mother and magical guardian." He put the papers proving his claim on the desk.

This certainly fetched his interest. Wyvernclaw glanced at Agatha and on her short nod he turned back towards Harry and suppressed any emotions on his gnarled face. Interesting enough he ignored the papers. Agatha's nod seemed to be proof enough for him.

"My parents, James and Lily Potter, opened a number of accounts at Gringotts. As their sole heir it is in my interest to keep track of these accounts. Regretfully I've never received an appropriate economic training and I'm in dire need of qualified help."

"Most Wizards are barely able to convert Sickles to Knuts without help, so your request is understandable. Griphook is the accountant in charge of the Potter accounts and vaults."

To bow, to beg for help, to be polite – these were a part of the reasons that only on rare occasions a wizard tried to get the help of a Goblin in business things. The second problem was the very real chance that the addressed Goblin denied the request, especially in cases like this one, as Harry wanted him to control the work of another Goblin.

"Griphook is certainly a very talented and imaginative accountant." Imaginative – to call a Goblin imaginative could easily be understood as deceitful. "But I hoped to get your help in the matter as the documents seem to be very complicated." Complicated in this context could only mean that Harry accused Griphook of hiding his embezzlements with a mountain of paper and numbers.

Wyvernclaw stayed silent for a long time, glaring at Harry. Luckily Agatha had warned him not to look away and never to look down. He had nothing to fear or hide; he had to show his courage and honor.

"I hope the work will be worth my time." Harry translated this words to "you'll regret your request if I'll find nothing." Hopefully they had been right; hopefully Griphook had something to hide behind his friendliness and not only an ungoblinish mentality.

.

_Two hours later_

.

They had occupied another room. The sun had set a while ago; the other clients and accountants had already left the bank. Only a small number of restless clerks were still at work, Wyvernclaw being one of them. He had sent his assistant and two bearers – Harry translated to "guards" – to fetch Griphook and all documents regarding the Potter family after he had very carefully studied the adoption and guardian papers. Trust was one side, but controlling the work of an accountant without legal rights was something completely else.

A small table, half a dozen chairs and some tea – that was the place where Harry and his friends and family were waiting. A few steps away Wyvernclaw was residing at a very large table and examining the documents. A very unhappy Griphook stood at his side and waited for a chance to explain them. For the most part the examination had been completely silent, only broken by very few, very harshly worded questions, instantly and a bit whiningly responded.

At last Wyvernclaw looked up, his face announcing his disapproval. "We'll speak about this tomorrow, Griphook. I expect some convincing arguments why you decided that these applications could be anything else than dragon dung. Work of this quality is certainly not appropriate to get you back the desk of your father. I'm disappointed."

That he expressed his disappointment in English was an even greater hint of Griphook's trouble than the words itself. With his head hanging he left the room, unable or unwilling to even mumble a word of goodbye.

Silently Wyvernclaw organized the papers, before he looked up again, straight at Harry, and gestured him to take place at the desk across of him. Roxanne got a seat at his side while Agatha stayed at the tea table with the teenagers. Her role had ended with Wyvernclaw's willingness to help Harry. Wyvernclaw had been her accountant for more than twenty years and she trusted him as far as a Witch could trust a Goblin. Their little banter about embezzlements was well-studied and well-meant. She knew that he hated bad work nearly as much as fraud. In his former occupation Wyvernclaw had learned that the smallest slackness could cost a life and he saw no reason why it shouldn't be the same here.

"Mister Potter, I have a number of news for you. Some are good, others are bad and quite a number … depends. We'll need a bit of time to sort through all of this. There are several accounts we'll have to examine and every account has different rules especially regarding your access to them."

He put a first paper on the table, headed 'Harry Potter School Trust'. Interestingly it wore not only Griphook's signature but also Wyvernclaw's.

"This is the smallest account but likewise the only one you have full access to," he started to explain. "Fourteen years ago your mother and your godmother had been here at my desk to open school trusts for Miss Daphne Greengrass and you."

"Lady Greengrass told me so," Harry complemented. "That I never received any allowance in the past decade had been the reason of our first visit. Until a few weeks ago I didn't know about the existence of any inheritance worth mentioning."

"I understand. As you see it is the traditional school trust with no specialties. It is used to pay for your visit at Hogwarts, for all school equipment and your monthly allowance." He pointed at several positions of the paper. Even Harry was able to understand that there had been the expected transfers of 50 Galleons each month since begin of the school like Roxanne had told him a month ago. Before school the transfers had been lower but all in all 4,200 Galleons had been withdrawn in the past decade as allowance only. The money had been transferred to another account under the direct control of Dumbledore.

_Dumbledore_, Harry hissed. He had crotched his allowance for nearly a decade and while the sum wasn't a fortune he would have been happy to get the money, if only to be more generous with gifts and buy appropriate clothes. _He had to pay back the allowance Professor McGonagall had given him in the last years_, Harry promised himself, and if only that she was able to help others in the future again. Perhaps there were more students in dire financial need among the Gryffindors. While he didn't like Ron anymore he strongly remembered the first day when Ron hadn't been able buy any sweets on the Hogwarts' express.

"School material 500 Galleons per year are a bit high," Roxanne interrupted his thoughts. "I'm certainly not niggardly but my daughters don't need this sum together. And that's the wrong school charging rate. Mother? 2,000 Galleons is the rate used for wealthy Muggleborn, isn't it?"

"What?" Hermione interjected. "There are different charging rates?" She knew that her parents paid exactly that sum and that it put a real dent in their purse despite the very well running dentists' office.

"Regretfully yes," Agatha assented. "They differentiate between rich and poor – certainly acceptable – and between Muggleborn and Wizardborn. The reason is meant to be that Wizardborn contribute more to the Wizarding world, pay taxes to the Wizarding world etc. But regardless of whether this is reasonable and fair or not: They used the wrong rate. These 2,000 Galleons – that's the highest possible school rate. Harry should pay far less."

Harry's eyes had started to blaze since Wyvernclaw confirmed Roxanne's suspicions regarding the monthly allowance. Allowance withhold, charged too much for his school materials and transferred the wrong rate – it added. But still it made no real sense, this nit-picking, this small scale embezzlement.

"Why all this trouble?" He asked. "Yes, this is quite a sum but still … if someone wants to scam me, why on this level, why not a huge sum? Steeling my pocket money? That's Kindergarten level."

"Possibilities of access," Agatha explained and Wyvernclaw agreed.

"Your parents opened four accounts at Gringotts. The administration is very complicated and even your magical guardian – until today Headmaster Dumbledore – has only limited access to the money. Especially your mother had been very careful in her safeguarding. This is your smallest account and still the embezzlements add to a sum of around 10,000 Galleons. At least if I consider these payments too. I assume you never received additional training before the school? According to these documents you paid 2,500 Galleons for advanced training from the age of seven to eleven."

"Only if you call starving, beating and shutting up in a box a kind of advanced training," Harry growled back.

Roxanne had feared his reaction prior to this visit, had feared that his anger would dominate him. But apparently the last months had changed him more than expected. Yes, he was angry, deathly angry even, but he was able and willing to control it. _Revenge is a meal best served cold_. This seemed to be his motto of the day and Roxanne was glad about it.

A few steps behind Hermione thought the same. _Replace Ron the irascible with Neville the good-hearted, add a pinch of Daphne the caring, let the mix simmer and wait a few months … et voila: A new Harry_. She really liked this new side of her best friend.

"We should be able to roll back these transfers easily. I assume that I'm not going out on a limb if I promise that you'll have access to these 10,000 Galleons within a week. As they had been part of your school trust, you'll have more or less complete control over the sum. Your guardian has to agree only if you want to spent larger amounts at a time."

Harry beamed at the news. He would really have his own money now. 10,000 Galleons wasn't a fortune but certainly more than enough to pay back his debts with Roxanne and Minerva, the salary of Remus and a number of smaller wishes. And he could pay his half of the twins prank shop contract.

"Aside from your school trust there are two larger accounts – one each belonging to James and Lily Potter – and a number of documents regarding the inherited real estates."

Harry sighed. This will be a long night.

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_Pinegrew Manor – after midnight_

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Beaten to death Harry dropped into his bed, his arms unwilling to spend the energy to pull the blanket over his body. Six hours? Yes, they had spent six hours at Gringotts – two hours waiting, four hours explaining and making some of the decisions he had to do – certainly not all of them, only a small part. In the week after Christmas he had to visit Wyvernclaw again and finish their business, especially what to do with the "Lily Evans Foundation".

The Foundation had been … no, it hadn't really been a surprise. He should have expected something like that from his mother. Perhaps his father's character was more difficult and complex than he had hoped before, but from everyone he had heard the same stories about his mother and her compassion. That she had planned to share her wealth with others was a wish he intended to continue and to honor.

.

150,000 Galleons – that was the sum Wyvernclaw told him, the sum found in Lily Evans-Potter's vault. The greatest part of it had been her dowry – never spent as she had been killed too soon after the wedding, with much of her last year of life spend on the run. A similar worth had the company shares she owned. Much of his anger about the fraud had died away as he noticed the names and descriptions of the companies, names like "Eastern London Workshop for Severely Handicapped Persons" or "Support Office for the Brighton Orphanage".

A contract had been prepared by her to transfer a small sum to the Foundation Vault every month. "Headmaster Dumbledore stopped the transfer," Wyvernclaw explained. "He tried to lay his hands on the vault of your mother like he did with the one of your father, but she had been more careful, far less trusting. Here is a paper, an application by him, to sell the company shares. But we had to decline the request because he wasn't able to submit the affirmation of Lady Longbottom."

The low growl emitted from Harry's throat as he heard about Dumbledore's willingness to sell these companies – disregarding the wishes of his mother and the welfare of those handicapped persons – obviously pleased Wyvernclaw very much. A very vicious grin became visible on his face and he nodded approvingly.

"Why would he need the affirmation of my Grandmother?" Neville asked.

Wyvernclaw put another sheet on his table. "Misses Evans-Potter planned the Foundation as a parent organization to a larger number of smaller companies. She wanted to submit her own money and collect more from other families, Muggle and Wizard. Lady Longbottom had been chosen by her to be director of the foundation. According to my knowledge she had agreed to this position but …"

_Again his mother's early death had stopped one of her wishes_, Harry pondered. "I'll ask her if she is still interested," he announced. "Do I have control over Foundation and vault?"

"You'll have full control at the age of seventeen," Wyvernclaw responded. "Before that your magical guardian has to agree – if that guardian is one of the persons on this list of trusted persons. Your mother wanted to make secure that a wrongly chosen guardian wouldn't be able to spend your money."

He showed the list to Harry and it was no surprise to find the names of Roxanne, Augusta and even Amelia Bones on this list. Equally unsurprising was the lack of Dumbledore's and Sirius' name. "I don't see Professor McGonagall on this list," Harry said in Hermione's direction. "Instead I find Professor Flitwick."

"It makes sense," she responded. "Your mother had been very close to Professor Flitwick as far as we know. And Minerva … you know how much I like and respect her, but she is too close to the Headmaster, I fear. Perhaps your mother thought the same about her, didn't trust her to stand up against the Headmaster."

Harry agreed and asked Wyvernclaw: "So with Lady Greengrass permission I could bring this Foundation contract into effect?"

"This would be possible. Your mother got the approval of my superior that this Foundation would be administered favorably. This meant especially no administration charges and non-interest-bearing loans. Apparently she made quite an impression to obtain these privileges. The approval is still intact as long as you use the Foundation like intended: To help disadvantaged persons."

.

"Regretfully there is another point I have to inform you about. Somehow Headmaster Dumbledore had been able to handle the inheritance of your mother's parents. Half of the money went to a Mrs. Petunia Dursley. The other half should have gone to your mother's vault. Instead Griphook followed Headmaster Dumbledore's decision to put it into a fourth vault. It is not a very large sum; apparently your grandparents weren't very wealthy."

He shortly studied his papers again. "44,000 Galleons had been put into the vault thirteen years ago. Access has a certain Wizard named Mundungus Fletcher. Do you know this person?" Harry shook his head. He had heard the name somewhere before but wasn't able to recall the opportunity. According to the expression on Wyvernclaw's face this Fletcher wasn't the most trustworthy person.

"Mister Fletcher is … well known … to us. There had been a few problems in the past and since five years he is on our intern 'bad-apple' list. Not that we really have such a list – officially," Wyvernclaw added with a grin.

"So Dumbledore used this Fletcher as an intermediary, to hide his involvement," Hermione asked.

"I assume that was one of the reasons. The other one was perhaps a question of spare time as Mister Fletcher had been handling the day-to-day activities in the past.

"Would it be possible to transfer the money into my mother's vault as soon as possible?"

Instead of a direct answer Wyvernclaw fetched a printed form, filled it and put it in front of Harry and Roxanne: "Sign here and here." A few minutes and stamps later he acknowledged: "Done – at least for the sum that was still in the vault: 28,000 Galleons. The rest had been spent in the past decade. Around 5,000 Galleons we should be able to get out of Mister Fletcher's personal vault but I fear that the rest is gone. Naturally you could try to sue Mister Fletcher but the case would be difficult – as he had your former guardian's allowance – and I fear you shouldn't expect too much. Mister Fletcher isn't very rich."

"I propose not to sue him now" Agatha stated. "We could still have this in mind should the need arise later, should we ever need some means of leverage. Main issue now should be that you have the lion's share of the money and deny him – and Dumbledore – any further access."

"My Grandmother is on solid ground in this matter," Harry agreed. He had chosen the nickname with care and the reactions of the Pinegrew ladies told him that it had been the right decision. They were his family now. His mother had trusted them; he would trust them too and rely on their judgment.

"Then you certainly should change this contract too," Wyvernclaw explained. "I know it is a bit late now but I fear we should settle this matter tonight, before someone is able to cause harm."

Harry stared at him, his eyes red with anger and exhaustion, traces of his tears still visible on his cheeks. _Dumbledore_, the name dangled unsaid in the room. "Please explain."

Wyvernclaw used the next thirty minutes to explain the problems of the largest share of his inheritance. While the Potter wealth had been far greater twenty years ago, his father had spent a large amount of money to support the war against Voldemort and especially to help widows and orphans of the war. Harry couldn't blame him. Yes, he would be a few millions richer without his father's expenses, but most of the money had been well spent.

Potions, armor and other equipment for Aurors and Order members, support for the families of murdered Wizards and Witches, grants to independent newspapers.

"He even spent money on the Quibbler," Harry uttered with a smile. "I own a fifteen percent share of the newspaper. I should read my paper more often in the future." Luna would certainly like to hear about this.

Still the Potter wealth encompassed a sum of around 600,000 Galleons, two larger estates – the damaged house of his parents at Godric's Hollow and the family Manor – and a number of smaller estates in Europe, mostly vacation bungalows and city flats.

"Around a quarter of the sum that had been in the vault at your parents' death has been spent since then. The official justification was the maintenance of Potter Manor. But with Mister Fletcher as the responsible caretaker I have my doubts about this. Smaller amounts have been spent to support a number of poorer Wizards and Witches."

Harry already knew that Potter Manor had been used by the Order since the war. It would be interesting to see its current condition. Wyvernclaw showed Harry the list of the supported persons and while he didn't know every one of the names, he at least noticed Hestia Jones, Mrs. Figg and even Remus Lupin with very small sums. Harry knew that Dumbledore had supported a number of poorer members of the Order, only the origin of the money he had used so generously – his money – was a surprise.

"Please withdraw any access Mister Fletcher has to this account. For now continue the payments listed, but double the amount paid to Mrs. Figg. But from now on the money goes directly to her own vault. I assume you're able to establish something that she'll be able to get her money from a Muggle Bank?" He had come to like the lady and she had never been rich. To live as a Squib without family fortune, without education and magic was certainly difficult, especially at her age. He only wanted that she knew who paid her support, wanted to separate her from Dumbledore's influence.

"That won't be a problem," Wyvernclaw responded. "We have contacts to some larger Muggle Banks."

Harry recapitulated what he had heard this evening:

School Trust: Wyvernclaw would get him back the around 10,000 Galleons Dumbledore had stolen in the last decade. Harry would have access to this money from now on.

Lily's vault and Foundation account: After the return of her parents' inheritance there would be around 180,000 Galleons and a number of company shares. He would have limited access until he turned seventeen and hoped that Lady Longbottom would be willing to help him with the foundation.

James' vault: The largest share of the inheritance, two estates and 600,000 Galleons. As Wyvernclaw explained he would have full access after his twenty-first birthday. Until then he only had to make sure that nobody went on with spending his money.

Main culprits in the whole matter: Headmaster Dumbledore and his henchman Mundungus Fletcher. They would suffer for this, Harry promised himself. He wouldn't lose control, but he wouldn't forget too. At least he had been relieved that apparently no other teacher had been involved in the fraud.

His fist suddenly smashed on the desk, awakening everybody. Harry breathed deeply two times before he explained with a lopsided grin: "A fly was there." He flicked away the invisible – and non-existent – fly and pretended calmly leaned back again.

Wyvernclaw watched him with interest. He remembered quite well the day his mother had been sitting there. New to the wizard world and inexperienced in the ways of the money, Lily Evans had no qualms to ask advice from a goblin. _You haven't to know it all, but you have to think and to be willing to ask the right people_. She had been eager to learn about the possibilities to secure her son's inheritance, back then already not trusting every 'person to be respected' in her vicinity. As she started to think about the Foundation contract, Wyvernclaw had sent her to his superior.

His superior – Wyvernclaw grinned. She was one of the few goblin women in this business, one of the oldest and most ugly women to add. Small, bald and barrel-shaped her knowledge was respected by the whole division, her displeasure feared by even the most senior accountant. She was Chief Accountant of London now, directly subordinated the director. And she was his Great-great-Aunt. But she didn't wear her nickname 'Old Ironsides' for nothing. The saying was that you had to be a very young Goblin whelp to tear a smile from her cracked lips.

A century ago she had been a most famous curse-breaker, many of her books and regulations still used today at Gringotts. And she belonged to the small and all-female order of Spirit Shamans. Fifty years ago she had entered the Accountant Division, rising sharply through the ranks thanks to her incredible mind. That Lily Evans had been able to make an impression on her in a single afternoon showed clearly what an extraordinary woman she had been. Wyvernclaw saw much of her in this boy. _I'll help you as my Aunt had done with your mother_.

"Something is troubling you, Master Wyvernclaw," Agatha suddenly objected. "Am I correct?"

The addressed Goblin stared at her in silence for a while before he slowly nodded. "You're correct." He pointed towards the papers with a low sigh. "Without your visit today this fraud could have gone on for a long time. The applications had been phrased well enough to be inconspicuous, the sums chosen carefully not to break the mold. It is too …"

"Too convenient?" Agatha asked.

"Yes," he sighed again "too convenient. It is onerous to admit that no wizard could have been able to pull such a fraud without intern help. Someone – Griphook – must have told him what would be possible, where the limits would be."

"Could you tell us something about this Griphook?"

"His family had been part of the LAD – London Accountant Division – for a long time. They had been responsible for some of the wealthiest and most respectable families. But after the death of his grandfather the status of his family declined. The reputation of his father and uncle wasn't the best and they lost many important customers. It ended with his father being degraded and since then his son tried to get back their old position. Fifteen years ago there had been some rumors about not fully legal transactions but somehow Griphook was able to avoid another degrade.

"Since then he had been able to ensnare some new customers, mostly Muggleborn families who had been sent to him apparently. They aren't very important customers mostly but thanks to them he had been able to slowly better his station again. Since Mister Potter entered Hogwarts Griphook started to harass us with his requests to get back his father's desk."

"Gringotts has a unique reputation," Agatha stated. "It must be hard to learn about a black sheep among you."

"It is disgusting," Wyvernclaw agreed. "I'll send the documents to our internal revision and a copy to Ol' Ironsides. If I'm correct about my assumption, Griphook won't like the punishment."

.

Harry closed his eyes, a smile on his face. He would honor his mother's wishes. He would get his payback on Dumbledore. But most importantly he had a family, a real family.

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_**A/N**_

_You see that I avoided the "you have the inheritance of a dozen families at your hands including Gryffindor and your money is enough to buy Scotland"-thing. But please remember that I use my own conversion rate (1:20), so his 800,000 Galleons should be around 15-20 million Dollar/Euro/Pounds, more than enough to live comfortably but not enough to buy a 200 feet yacht or the Daily Prophet with the petty cash._

_Harry's recapitulation is partially meant for you because I fear that the chapter is a bit confusing to read._

_**Old Ironsides**__ is a former pen&paper roleplaying char of my wife. She won't play a greater role in this story (but expect to see more of Wyvernclaw)._

_I intend to write another 3 chapters about the winter break. After that we'll do a jump into February with Valentine and second task. I have a little request again. I'm looking for ideas regarding __**Valentine**__, things that would be appropriate for Harry/Daphne and Hermione/Neville. Please give me input._


	26. Chapter 26 Visit of the Spanish Lady

_**A/N**_

_This chapter contains a larger number of smaller and partially independent scenes. Most of them (with the exemption of the last one) aren't exceptionally important and so I often only adumbrated an event. _

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**Visit of the Spanish Lady**

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_Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office – 24__th__ of December_

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The Headmaster's mood hadn't improved in the last days. He had hoped to win a few days with the orders and hints he had given to the relevant persons at Ministry and Gringotts. But again his plans had gone awry.

Perhaps he should have expected Lady Greengrass to ask Amelia Bones for help. Apparently he had underestimated how close the women had become since that poison incident. Dumbledore sighed. He had handled the matter badly. With an unimportant Muggleborn the target of the attack he had been content that there hadn't been any victims, nothing to besmirch the reputation of Hogwarts, nothing to startle the more important families of the Wizarding. The decision had been a rational one, but he had missed a golden opportunity to get some brownie points with Harry. Solving the mystery around the assassination attempt would certainly have impressed the boy. Now, months later, it was too late. Perhaps he could present him a scapegoat, Dumbledore shortly mused. The idea merited more contemplation.

Daphne Greengrass had rescued the girl and simultaneously prevented a criminal charge against Susan Bones. No wonder that her Aunt had been willing to help in the adoption case. Instead of several months, instead of stalling the matter until the summer break, the adoption had already been settled.

Miss Granger, Dumbledore pondered. She was still in his care. Perhaps it would be possible to use his guardianship over her. He had to be very careful in the amount of pressure he applied. She respected him and loved to be at Hogwarts. Could he use that against Harry? Naturally Minerva should never be allowed to hear anything about that. His former staunchest supporter had changed into a harassing critic in the last weeks. Dumbledore allowed himself to moan in frustration. So much had taken a turn for the worse. And now this – Dumbledore stared at the letter that arrived at his office this morning, a letter from Accountant Griphook.

With Lady Greengrass new status as Harry's guardian Griphook hadn't been able to furthermore deny her access to the account's documents. Her mother had even been able to get the help of Griphook's superior for the examination. He hadn't expected such a move. Goblins were notoriously unwilling to help a wizard or witch in the control of another Goblin's work and only a few wizards would even think about such a move.

Dumbledore didn't know the amount of information Lady Greengrass and the Potter-boy had received, but he had to assume the worst. And with Wyvernclaw involved it was only a question of time until the Goblins started a serious investigation. Most of his actions had been within legal limits, but rumors about them could seriously damage his reputation. Nobody would understand that he hadn't done this to enrich himself, that he only needed that money to further the cause of the greater good. Perhaps he should have accepted the appointment as Minister of Magic thirteen years ago. Many things would have been easier.

No, Dumbledore shook his head. It was still better to be the grey eminence behind the curtain.

But he had to act now. And he had to act fast and determined.

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_Pinegrew Manor – Breakfast room_

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They were sitting at the table in a cheerful mood. The four teenagers, Roxanne and Agatha enjoyed a hearty breakfast with eggs, bacon and sausages. Harry liked especially the wide choice of juices. After three years of plum juice at Hogwarts he would like to bathe in apple juice, orange juice and the more exotic ones, some of them unknown to him until a few days ago.

Drinking a sourer variant from his crystal glass – he already had learned that crystal glasses and tumblers were one of the luxuries that were important to Agatha – he followed the amused look of Hermione and Daphne to the second table a few steps away. There, at a smaller round table, Ciddy was feeding Crookshanks, Balou, Hedwig and Mandragora with nibbles of all kind. Every fifth bite landed in her own mouth and she seemed to really like her pet round. Harry only hoped that Ciddy wouldn't start to dress the tomcats like little children. He had seen it once with a very 'strongly build' – read: fat – toy poodle. He shuddered as he imagined Balou with some kind of yellow outfit.

Agatha grinned as she thought about her son-in-law. Cyrus would have an apoplexy at the sight. He had never been able to understand the sense of love towards an innocent creature. Owls were only an instrument to him, their duty to deliver mail. Cats were completely useless in his opinion. Who needed the affection of a cat if you can buy a whore? Shortly the elder lady grimaced.

It was an open secret that Lucius spent a part of his money on his physical pleasure – the fact that Narcissa according to rumors hadn't been very 'enthusiastic' since Draco's birth certainly being an important reason for that behavior – and that he more than once had persuaded Cyrus and a few of his other 'important' friends to accompany him. There even was the rumor that he paid for Lady Catherine Yanue, the French bitch – pardon: Society Lady – Veela and Minister's mistress. To have a mistress was certainly a French tradition that Britain didn't need to import.

Harry happily looked around. This was his first breakfast as an official part of this family, hopefully many more would follow. "What are your plans for today … Mother?" The last word he emphasized especially while he tried to avoid looking at Roxanne or Daphne. The small pause before her answer told him enough about her emotions. He had decided to call her mother from now on and somehow it felt right, didn't feel like betrayal to Lily.

"Master Wyvernclaw wanted to speak with us about the investigation after Christmas. We should try to forget about that business stuff for a while. Regretfully your wands won't be ready today, but I thought you could use a visit to a wiz-optician."

Harry blinked. His glasses had been a part of him for several years now. He hadn't been at an optician since entering school seven years ago. Hermione had repaired his glasses more than a few times in the past. It was really time for a new pair. Perhaps it would be possible to get one with a kind of spell against weather. He painfully remembered those Quidditch games where he had struggled with Scottish rain. "I would like that."

"That's about your glasses. Daphne, I thought you could use the time and show Hermione Hobbiton. I'm sure she'll like that."

"Hobbiton?" Hermione blinked. Naturally she knew the name but how could Daphne show her a fictional village.

"Splendid idea, Mum," Daphne grinned. "You'll love it, Hermione."

.

_Pinegrew Manor Area – Hobbiton_

.

Hermione had no idea what to expect as she followed Daphne through the back area of Pinegrew Manor. Neville was holding her hand and smiling reassuringly while they looked at a rose garden, a small pavilion and a grove of elm trees. She hadn't expected the area around the manor to be this vast. Suddenly the trees gave room to a clearing, the sight being one made of reading dreams.

*Blink*

*Stare*

*Blink*

Daphne giggled "It's cute, isn't it?"

Neville pressed Hermione's hand: "I see it too."

Hermione shook her head, stared again. In front of her stood a broadly grinning Ciddy, with a bunch of house elves. Some of them she already knew –there was Philly, Ciddy's younger brother, and over there waved Matti in her direction, the chief cook – but others she had never seen before. Old elves, very young elves, whole families – all in all more than a score of house elves waiting in front of something that could only be the product of her fantasy – her or the fantasy of JRR Tolkien.

Settled in the clearing six, eight small hillocks were visible, grass-covered but with chimneys. Gardens with flowers and herbs surrounded the hillocks and in the center of the tiny settlement was a gathering place with a low tribune and a circle of wooden benches.

"Two hundred years ago some Irish house elves started to work for my family. Great-great-Grandma Josephine allowed them to build a home like they were used to have in Ireland. The other house elves liked the idea and since then there has always been a Hobbiton at Pinegrew Manor."

"It's so like …"

"Tolkien's Shireton?" Daphne smiled. "I know. We assume that Tolkien came across an Irish house elf settlement and got inspired. In any case it would be too much of a coincidence. Let's go … Ciddy wanted to show you her house."

.

_Pinegrew Manor_

.

"You have to look yourself, Harry," Hermione babbled. She had spoken nonstop since his return: Ciddy's home this, Ciddy's home that.

"And it's so tiny and lovely. I felt like Alice complete with growing potion ingested. I had to be really careful not to damage the walls or roof. They built a house for Cathy – she's Ciddy's cousin you know and she'll marry next summer. I've been invited to the wedding. I'm sure she'll invite you too."

Her cheeks had a nice shade of red while she told agitatedly about the settlement. Daphne and the others were listening, her mother a knowing smile on her lips. She had hoped that Hermione would react like this. Not only was the welfare of elves very important to her, but also she really needed a bit more of relaxed joy in her life.

"So you have no problems anymore with my family being a bunch of slave holders?" Harry asked with a grin. _My family_ – it was still new enough to cause reactions from Daphne and Roxanne and to be special for him to use those words.

Hermione rabbit punched his arm. "Prat, naturally not, this is something completely different." She sighed. "But I'm happy that Daphne …"

"That Daphne …" Harry ushered.

"You know about my idea with S.P.E.W. this fall. Daphne stopped me, told me that I first have to speak with elves, get to know what kind of help they need and want." She sighed a bit unhappy. "I really wanted to help the house elves, even pondered about knitting them socks to set them free."

"That wouldn't work," Neville interrupted. "It has to be the owner to give them clothes, in case of Hogwarts it should be the Headmaster, I assume."

Daphne nodded. "And it is very compassionate of you, that you want to help them. It's no wonder that Ciddy already likes you more than me."

Hermione blushed and mumbled something incomprehensible. But Daphne hugged her shortly: "It is okay, really. Not every elf has a life like those in our household." She shortly glared dangerously at Harry. "And get this straight: You have a family tradition to uphold. To treat your house elves like a Malfoy is a grave offense in the eyes of a Pinegrew lady."

Harry bowed deeply. "A clever man would do nothing to offend his lady."

"Good answer."

Suddenly Hermione frowned thoughtfully. "What about Dobby, Harry?"

"Dobby?" Harry asked; then he nodded slowly. "We should speak with him. Perhaps he could live here, if he wants. Or he could look after Potter Manor. With Fletcher out of the picture someone has to take care of the house."

Hermione agreed with a smile: "I'm certain he would love that." The thought of having a house elf working at Potter Manor still troubled her a bit. But if Harry wasn't the perfect master, who else?

"Could he take Winky with him?" Ciddy piped.

"Who's Winky?"

"Winky is a new elf. She lost her family and is very downtrodden since then. Her former master sent her away. She's working in the kitchen at Hogwarts, but she's drinking too much butterbeer. Dobby tried to uplift her mood, but he was unsuccessful so far."

"I remember her," Harry said. "She had been the house elf of Crouch until the Quidditch finals."

Again Hermione admired how well-spoken the Pinegrew Elves were. Nothing of that 'third person ramblings' many elves used. Roxanne had told her about Agatha teaching the older elves. "No Elf is allowed to work in the house, that isn't able to speak properly." Apparently it had been enough of an enticement to learn.

"I don't think that would be a problem. Certainly a complete manor could use more than one elf. We'll speak with Dobby about her, too."

.

"Harry, where are your glasses?" Hermione stared at her friend. Harry had been back since more than an hour but she had been so agitated, so anxious to speak about Hobbiton, that she totally missed the fact that he wasn't wearing his glasses anymore.

"He was at the wiz-optician, Hermione," Daphne stated like it would explain everything. It did not. Hermione stared blankly at her, so Daphne smilingly continued: "Have you seen any other boy at Hogwarts with glasses – perhaps a few Muggle-born but any Wizard-born?"

Hermione pondered for a moment; then she shook her head.

"See? It is unusual among us. Harry, you're wearing magical contact lenses now; am I right?"

"Sure," Harry nodded. "New sized, wearable the whole year. Merlin, they even put a charm on it. Now they darken a bit in bright sun and they protect my eyes against airstream."

"That's nice. I have something similar too. Not to enhance my eyesight, only the sun and wind protection. For Quidditch, you know."

.

"Back to your question from this morning, Harry," Roxanne started. They were sitting at the table again, eating a small lunch as preparation for a long afternoon. "Our plans …" She looked at her mother to continue.

"We have planned something for the next days. With the tournament at Hogwarts and some not so happy incidents last term we're sure that you should use the time to prepare yourselves."

"But you'll not only learn," Roxanne interjected. "We created a timetable and there will be time for sports and relaxation too. And TV family evenings," she smiled. The discussion between her and Agatha had been long and arduous one. The conflict – learn as much as possible to help them defend themselves but allow enough time to be normal teenagers – had been very difficult. Likewise it had been tough to decide about the most urgent training sessions. Which could be done at Hogwarts and what should be learned here?

Hermione sighed. "But I have to go back to my family after the celebration. I would really like to stay here, but my parents … I miss them. I've not seen them for months and the summer break is so far away."

"That's not a problem, dear." Agatha patted her hand. "I've invited them to have a small holiday at Pinegrew Manor. Sports, reading, relaxing, fine feed … they even wanted to try a bit of horse riding and your mother was interested in a fencing lesson. And they could watch some of the magic you've learned so far."

Hermione looked flabbergasted at her. Slowly a broad smile crept on her face, before she hurried to Agatha and hugged her heartily. "Thank you, Agatha, thank you."

"You're welcome. You're parents seemed to be very nice, especially your mum. Now I know where you inherited some of your better traits."

Hermione blushed and nodded. She really loved her mother. Dan, her father was sometimes a bit stern and had been worried about her witch status four years ago. Never could she tell him about all the adventures and dangers at Hogwarts without risking that he tried to pull her out. But her mother Ellen had always been very supportive.

She had also been the one to teach her about the Catholic belief. Her father – at least officially an Anglican – had allowed this in Great Britain very unusual belief to be taught to his daughter. "It means much to Ellen," he once explained. "And for me it's only important that she adopts Christian virtues and a human agency."

"So you can spend some hours with your parents and still participate in the lessons," Agatha continued. "We had some difficulties to decide what to teach you, how to arrange your time. I still assume that Occlumency and Legilimency are very important. I will teach you Occlumency and Aunt Anne offered to start Legilimency sessions with Daphne. We both know that your talents aren't really in that field, Daphne, but you already began to learn and you four will need a Legilimens to train Occlumency at Hogwarts. By the way Anne wanted to test you all four regarding your mind talents. That should be interesting."

The teenagers, especially Harry, looked uncomfortably at her. Did they really want an unknown woman to examine their mind? "I trust her," Daphne stated, realizing their qualms. "She'll be careful and don't probe too deep. She'll never betray your trust." Harry smiled and nodded slowly.

"About testing," Roxanne took over. "You know that in the Pinegrew family there is a tradition to learn the Animagus spell. The same could be said about the Potter family. But this spell is very difficult and time intensive to learn. And not everyone has the needed talent for it. Agatha and I think it would be better to delay that training at least until summer. One small part you can already begin as it would help with your Occlumency training too.

"We'll teach you some Meditation techniques that compose the first of many steps towards being an Animagus. And we started to brew a potion that will tell you if you're talented and how difficult it will be. If you want you can make the test next week."

"Should I make this test too, Mum?" Daphne asked a bit downtrodden.

Harry wondered: "Naturally, why shouldn't you? You even more than us, Daphne."

Daphne forced a weak smile. "It isn't so easy, Harry."

"We never test Daphne until now, Harry," Roxanne explained. "I expect her to be talented, at least at my level, meaning she could learn it but with difficulties and a huge amount of discipline. But even if she's able to master an Animagus form it could be better not to do so. Daphne's talents are still growing and Anne has to test her again next summer. According to her estimation there is a large risk that learning that spell could backfire and destroy some of her other abilities. We have to wait and see and then it will be Daphne's decision to make."

"I don't understand what you're speaking about. What other abilities do you mean?"

"You'll hear about it, Harry, later. For now let's simply wait and do the test. Perhaps there even isn't a decision to be done."

.

_Pinegrew Manor – Training Room – Afternoon_

.

Perhaps as a distraction Roxanne convinced the teenagers after the short meal to make a first training session. Leading them downstairs they found themselves in a large room a short while later, possibly meant as a gym. The room was empty at the moment aside from a wall crafted from a glass-like substance that screened off a quarter of the room and contained a dozen chairs and a few small tables.

"We have to enhance the room in the next months. In the moment we only added some protection spells. The wall should be enough to shield spectators against stray spells. But please don't use Reducto spells in the moment." Roxanne smiled knowingly at Harry and Hermione, as she had been the last one to use that special spell. "Today we'll only make a first small duel training. First a small pass against me to see your strengths and weaknesses, after that we'll decide how to pair you up for today."

.

Sweat and pain could be the description of the next two hours. That none of the teenagers, not even Harry, came close to defeating her surprised none. But to see her dodge nearly every spell, only using a Protego as she went against Harry and Daphne together – the two fastest offensive casters of the group – was simply stunning. She urged the teenagers to try the same and the exhaustion proved clearly that they needed their ongoing physical training if they wanted to dodge more than a handful spells in a row. They had stopped it in the last weeks because of the weather and now regretted that decision dearly.

Interestingly only Neville had qualms to hit someone – Hermione – with his spells and had to be paired with someone else. Daphne and Harry on the other hand apparently enjoyed being sparring partner very much. Daphne was nearly as fast as Harry and was clearly more accurate with her spells, while Harry's spells were at least twice the strength of hers.

"Daphne," Harry yelled and hurried at her side. His last Stupefy not only had hit her Shield but even blasted it away and sent her to the ground. Hastily he cast an Enervate and kneeled at her side, gently lifting her head and shoulders to look at her. "Are you alright?"

"That's a stupid question, Mister Potter," Daphne sputtered, her cheeks red with anger and something else, her eyes glittering. "All hurts."

"Where does it hurt," he asked and stared, not looking very intelligent now.

A small smirk appeared on her lips as she pointed towards her neck: "Here."

"Show me," Harry whispered, bowing down to inspect the spot. There was nothing, no bruise, only soft skin, smelling of herb soap and glistening with sweat. "Better?" He asked after he pressed a small kiss on the spot.

"Better," Daphne whispered. Suddenly she blushed deeply and stared above Harry's shoulder. Without turning around he asked with a low voice: "Mother?" Daphne nodded and whispered back: "Mother."

.

_Pinegrew Manor – Sitting Room – Evening_

.

After the training it had been a fabulous idea to make use of the roofed swimming pool. In the summer the roof could be retracted but now they had been happy to have something between them and the December weather. The most important conversation matter was certainly the last duel between Neville and Roxanne.

.

_Moving her head only a handbreadth to the left Roxanne avoided Neville's last spell, again. More than two dozen spells – Stupefy, Expelliarmus and a few stinging hexes – had missed the mark and slowly the calm boy lost his nerve a bit. His face already had a shade of red, sign of his exhaustion and frustration. Instead of getting better he slowly descended into a sense of defeat._

_Suddenly a weak smile became visible, showing too openly that a thought had crossed his mind, a new tactic._

"_Aguamenti!" Within seconds a sheet of water covered the ground, turning into ice as Neville followed up with a "Glacis!" _

_With delight he watched as Roxanne slipped to the ground. Hastily he shot two spells in her direction. The first she evaded with a tumble, the second was deflected by her Protego. In the cover of her shield Roxanne cast a spell on herself, one Neville didn't recognize. Trying to defeat her before she was able to dispel his ice, he stepped forward and tried another disarming spell. _

_Open-mouthed Neville saw Roxanne jumping aside, coming to a stop with a screech of her feet. Marks were visible in the ice beside her feet but before he had time to react or think about the meaning of this, his wand went flying away and he was sent to the ground with a full body bind._

_Graceful and as if she was walking on normal ground instead of ice – every step accompanied by the same small screech – Roxanne went to Neville and bowed slightly. "Good tactic, Mister Longbottom. Make the ground unstable if your enemy is too fast. But don't count too much on that tactic." She raised her right foot and showed small spikes on the sole. "Ice walker Charm," she explained. "I'll show you the spell later. For our next lesson I expect from everyone a tactic to defeat a faster opponent and a counter to your tactic."_

.

Now – dried, changed and rested – they were waiting in the sitting room for the Dinner to be ready. The last evening in this small round, Harry pondered. During the next day the guests would arrive. Sirius and Remus would be there, Augusta Longbottom and Hermione's parents as well as a few others. At least Roxanne had only invited family and friends, no 'political or economic allies' as it was usual within old families. She wanted to have a nice celebration without having to fear any 'incidents' with some Pureblood insulting Hermione or a fan girl staring at him. Harry was more than happy about this decision.

As the door opened, Harry saw a woman enter he until now only knew from some pictures in the rooms of Roxanne and Daphne. Like Roxanne she had black hair and was around her age, perhaps a few years older. But there the similarities stopped.

She wasn't very tall, only an inch more than Harry, he assumed. Olive toned skin, the hair much shorter than Roxanne's – a bit tomboyish. While Roxanne and Daphne moved graciously, this woman behaved like an athlete. The shoulders of a swimmer, the legs of a runner, she certainly was a sight to behold, but more in a sensual way than like a classical beauty. But her smile as she greeted Daphne and hugged her crushingly – it changed the whole impression from being a dangerous predator to looking like Daphne's big sister.

For a while both seemed to forget everyone else and spoke rapidly in another language – Spanish, Harry suspected. Only Roxanne's harrumph caused them to make a break and acknowledge the rest of the attendants.

"Hello Anne, I'm surprised to already see you here."

Anne sighed. "I got a bit frustrated with my colleagues this afternoon. They always behave like the French Auror Department would contain only idiots. I really needed a break and decided it would be an idea to come a bit earlier." She turned around and shortly looked at the other teenagers before she went to Hermione. "So this must be Miss Granger. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, Senora Hernandez." Like could be expected Hermione tried to pronounce the name as correctly as possible, prompting a small smile of approval from their guest. If she was surprised to be recognized immediately and greeted before Harry – the boy-who-lived and family member – she didn't show it.

"Please call me Anne or Ana," Anne corrected "else I feel so immensely old."

"Ana it's then," Hermione smiled at her.

"And these are Mister Neville Longbottom – grandson of Augusta – and the newest addition of our family: Harry Potter-Pinegrew."

Anne greeted Neville with a very warm smile and Harry with a thoughtful glare. In contrary to the first evening with Daphne five months ago, this glare wasn't a sign of hostility but of keen interest and the wish to wait for more information about him. That was at least the impression Harry got and he hoped to be right about it. He really didn't want to experience another three months trying to convince another family member of his worthiness. And while Daphne had only been a bit bitchy to him in the beginning, this woman seemed to be much more dangerous if angered.

.

The dinner had been a happy matter. Anne had been willing to speak about her home and proved herself to be an accomplished travel guide, describing a number of Spanish cities, their history and how the cultures of Occident and Orient had blended into something unique. Not only Hermione had the wish to visit these cities in the future after those stories.

As the group returned to the sitting room, Anne suddenly asked Roxanne: "Have you already used your Winter solstice potion?"

_Winter solstice potion_, Harry mouthed silently in Neville's direction only to get a shrug for an answer.

"No, we wanted to wait for you, Anne. I hoped you would cast the examination spells. You have far more practice than I with them. It will be the first time for Harry and perhaps Hermione and Neville want to follow."

"Potion?" Hermione asked now. "Examination spells?"

"Yes," Daphne started to explain. "In our family, with all the contacts to Purebloods and Slytherins … you know, it's not that we don't trust our friends but you still have to be careful."

Harry blinked, not instantly grasping what Daphne was speaking about.

"Love potions," Neville helped. "My grandma used flushing potions on me a few time, to make sure that my crushes were for real and not something artificial."

"So I have to expect that she uses one again on you anytime soon, hearing about me," Hermione asked not too friendly.

"Absolutely," Neville agreed, trying hard to sound nonchalant "especially after Skeeter's last article about you and your hunt for …"

"Ron, Krum, Harry … now Neville … did I forget a target of our little gold-digger?" Daphne grinned.

"Draco," Harry added; his nonchalance more convincing than Neville's. "That broken nose last year was certainly only a sign of …"

"Careful now, Mister Potter," Hermione growled.

All eyes resting on him, Harry's mind raced. "Ehm … a sign of strong emotions, said entirely without judgment."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Luckily Harry was rescued by Daphne: "Our potion is something else, Neville. Yours – the more traditionally used flushing potion – is only to counter love and compulsion potions. Ours interact with a broad number of potions and spells. It isn't strong enough to really flush them out of your body and mind – in case you want some of those spells active in you – but reacts strong enough to allow a special examination spell to be cast."

"We do that three times a year. It isn't a one hundred percent protection but at least enough to counter long term effects. Please stay secretive about that. Not everybody has to know about this family secret."

.

"Interesting," Anne uttered after examining Daphne: "Nothing on you this time. I really had expected that someone tried again to use some potion on you. Apparently nobody was brave or foolish enough."

"Again?" Harry asked with a low growl. "What do you mean with again?"

"Exactly what I said, Harry," Anne answered a bit harsh. "A year ago someone used a weak compulsion spell on Daphne, a few times even. And two years ago … let's just say that Mister Malfoy wasn't sure about Daphne emotions towards his darling son. Not that it really helped his case. But these are old stories. Now let's see the others."

Not really content with the answer, Harry watched Anne warily as she cast the spell on him and Hermione. Both glowed a bit green, signs of spells used on them. On Harry this glow was mixed with blue stripes.

"Someone used a 'friendship compulsion' spell on Hermione. I guess last summer and the summer before – not very strong spells, only to enhance existing feelings. They should have no impact on her in the moment. The same can be said about Harry: soft spells to enhance feelings. But someone added a very weak love potion – low but long-during effect. Normally things like that are used if the culprit fears to get caught because of a larger change in the behavior of the target."

Hermione – very angry herself – half expected a new explosion of Harry. A few months ago he certainly would have reacted that way but again he showed this new side. Suddenly Harry felt himself hugged. "I'm so proud of you, Harry."

"Ehm … you're welcome? But how have I earned the praise?"

"I think she likes this new side of you, Harry," Neville helped: "This calmer side without temper tantrums. I mean: You really have reasons to go ballistic after this insight of Anne." Harry was positively surprised how well Neville had started to understand Hermione.

"Okay, I can live with that." Harry glared at no one especially. "But don't think that I like this. Someone has to pay for this."

"And someone will," Daphne agreed.

.

An idea crossed Harry's mind. "Would it be possible to detect if an Imperio had been cast on a person?"

"You think about those 'I've been under an Imperio as I murdered those Muggles' excuses?"

Harry nodded.

"In a way, yes. But it wouldn't help."

"Why not," Harry frowned.

"Like those under age tracer spells or Veritaserum, this spell could be outwitted, should its use be more widespread. It has severe limitations. I'm able to detect the traces of an Imperio. Sometimes I can even say how often the spell had been cast or guess how strong it had been. But I have no idea what kind of command had been spoken.

"I see the traces of that Imperio your teacher cast on you two months ago. But neither can I judge if you had been able to throw the spell off nor what he wanted you to do. Daphne told me that he ordered all of you to sing, to dance and do other absurd things. Should this be enough to explain your last killing spree? No, as soon as we use this spell in court, the Deatheaters would start to use it to prove their claim to be innocent."

.

"Now let's have a look at Neville," Anne stated and cast her spell.

"I don't think that something …" Neville stopped, looking flabbergasted at the glow. It was green, but a different shade to the color on Harry and Hermione before.

"That's no compulsion spell," Roxanne assessed.

"No, it isn't" Anne agreed. "I assume that the culprit knew about Augusta's caution. And the intent of this spell is way different. Its target is the self-esteem of the young man. Do tell me, Mister Longbottom, do you have any problems with clumsiness? Or perhaps your spell-casting – are you especially bad and weak at it? Sorry if I'm a bit too direct but this is important."

Neville slowly nodded, all color drained from his face.

"You can certainly say that," Harry agreed. "Neville holds the high score in destroyed potion cauldrons and he …" Harry stopped blushingly.

"I'm a bit of a Squib," Neville whispered. "My family feared for a long time that I'll never be a real Wizard."

"Neville is really fast at learning spells," Hermione complemented. "But his spell casting is often terrible. Sometimes I have no idea what's wrong with his casting. Motions and words seem to be correct but still it doesn't work or the spell is very weak."

Anne stared thoughtfully at Neville. She renewed the examination spell and stared at the glowing aura again. At last she said with a stern voice: "Agatha, this young man needs one of the bracers the others wear already. I'll have to read some of my books to continue; I'll fetch them when I return from the Delacour Ball in two days. I don't want to promise too much, Neville, but I think it should be possible to break this charm in a few days. Perhaps we can perform the ritual on New Year. It won't be a fast change but something needing a few months to adjust after that."

"But what kind of charm is it," Neville asked irritated. A charm had been cast on him and a dire one to add, following the expression and tune of Anne's voice.

"It is a misalignment spell," Anne explained. "It is like … your mind compass and your magical compass aren't aligned as it should be. Even a perfectly cast spell – perfect in motion and wording – would only get below standard results. It weakens every of your spells and negates any imperfectly cast one. A side effect is a 'bad luck effect'. Your mind is subconsciously trying to realign and interferes with all other actions."

"I think I understand what you want to explain," Hermione interjected. "But who should do this to him and why?"

"That's something for you to figure out," Anne responded. "I'm only able to detect the spell and hopefully to counter the effect."

.

"My whole life I … it was never enough. I was never able to be like my father, never good enough to get more than a token praise for my willingness. Grandma feared that I'll be a Squib and even now she's not expecting much from me. And all this could be a result of this spell?"

"It seems so," Harry agreed. The boys had prepared themselves to go to bed, while Daphne and Hermione had accompanied Anne to speak with her about … Harry didn't know about what, only that Daphne had shown a very serious face. "You've always been a bit too shy and not very self-confident. Could it be that someone tried to get exactly that result?"

"But why?" Neville asked confused. "I'm nobody special."

"You're the son of Frank and Alicia Longbottom. Your parents like mine had been the target of the Deatheaters fourteen years ago. Perhaps it has something to do with those events," Harry shrugged. "And, Neville: You're someone very special, to your family and to us. And especially special to Hermione," he added with a happy grin.

.

_**A/N**_

_Surprised? Yes, this times no "Harry's magical core has been limited". This time Neville had been the target. But don't expect Neville to be the new Merlin. The target of the spell is more his self-esteem than his magical power itself. And the question is: Who cast the spell and why?_


	27. Chapter 27 Family Celebration

_**A/N**_

_About __**Catholicism**__: Aeonir asked why I mentioned it. The reason: It will play a (small) part in this story (only as a background explanation) and be somewhat more important in the sequel because of Ana Hernandez. It doesn't have to be Catholicism; I could have chosen any other Religion of the Book (Christian, Judaism, and Islam) too. I chose Catholicism only because Ana is a Spanish Lady and I know the history of that belief the best. But don't worry; its part will be very small._

_By the way: I'll mention Westminster Cathedral in this chapter. It is the Catholic Church in Westminster/London. Perhaps you've heard already of its Anglican counterpart Westminster Abbey._

.

**Family Celebration**

.

_Westminster Cathedral – 25__th__ of December - Midmorning_

.

Hermione was a bit nervous as they approached Westminster Cathedral. They – Neville, Anne and she – had left the others at Pinegrew Manor and met her parents some minutes ago near the impressive cathedral. She had been her more than once in the past. Before her time at Hogwarts it had even been a family tradition to attend the mass on Easter, Whitsun and Christmas as often as possible.

Her mother had been delighted to re-establish the tradition, while her father unsurprisingly had been more interested in meeting Neville – a realization that wasn't helpful to calm the boy. To meet the father of your girlfriend wasn't the most relaxing prospect certainly. The last ten minutes her mother had used to speak with Anne about their common belief, while her father had started to grill Neville 'about his intentions'. Really – like they intended to elope on New Year. _Perhaps I should buy a brochure of Gretna Green and leave it lying around_, Hermione mused with a wicked smile.

Hermione suspected that Anne accompanied her to get an impression of her parents, especially her mother. But the reason for this was completely in the dark to her until now.

"You corrected your teeth."

The sudden statement of her father got her mother's attention too. Hermione had been happy about the distraction Anne had provided so far. Even happier she would have been to delay this discussion until later – next year perhaps.

"I …"

"It's far better this way, isn't it," Neville came to her rescue. "It looks much nicer now. Not that Hermione would need any improvement." It was kind of sweet how he positioned himself between Hermione and her parents now.

Her mother glared at Hermione.

"She has a very cute smile," Anne agreed, but it was of no help.

"We wanted to correct them later, traditionally." Her mother was not amused, while her father stayed silent. Hermione knew that he shared Emma's opinion about the matter, but apparently Dan thought that she was able to handle the matter alone. Or he was unwilling to spend energy on a discussion about spilt milk.

"I wanted to wait," Hermione wailed a bit.

"She had no choice," Neville tried to explain.

"You're full of excuses, young lady."

"You're unfair now." Neville showed his new found glare and continued: "She really wanted to wait, despite your decision being the wrong one. Yes, wrong." He growled. "It is one thing to decide to do this 'the correct way' but something completely else to live fourteen years as 'Miss Bucktooth'. Do you really expect that she liked to be insulted for something she wasn't responsible for, for something that could be corrected quite easily? And please say nothing about 'character molding'.

"Hermione respected your wish. But this fall our school git Draco Malfoy hexed her. Her teeth grew a full four inches and our school nurse had to shrink them again. And now her smile is even sweeter than before and she certainly doesn't deserve any reproaches on your side."

Hermione stared at her boyfriend, while Neville tried calm himself again, waiting for a response on his little speech. It came after a while but luckily in a better way than expected.

"That settles the case, I suppose," Dan said in a soothing way. "Don't you agree, Emma-darling?"

Her expression switching between confusion, consternation and stubborn anger, Emma sighed defeated at last: "Okay."

As she turned to walk away, leaving a stunned Hermione behind, Neville – in a sudden and not very intelligent boost of self-confidence – demanded: "An Apology would be in order."

Emma blinked, Hermione groaned and Anne grinned. This conversation started to really amuse her.

"You haven't believed your daughter in the matter. That's not okay. Hermione did nothing wrong. We had to trick her to …" Neville turned fire red.

Emma narrowed her eyes and showed a very sweet smile. Hermione knew this face, it demanded full concentration to avoid the 'Granger enrage experience'. "You had to trick her to do what?"

"To do nothing," Neville attempted a retreat. "Alright, perhaps we did something wrong but not Hermione."

"What …" Hermione puzzled stared at Neville. Suddenly realization hit her. "It was a trick. You tricked Malfoy to use that hex on me. And Daphne … she distracted me when Madam Pomfrey used that shrinking potion on my teeth."

Neville nodded weakly. "She knew that it troubled you. But you never would have disobeyed your parents. So we … pushed you a little bit to help you."

"You're right, young man," Emma relented. "I have to apologize to Hermione. But you and I will have a small, nice conversation later about meddling around with the education of our daughter."

Neville gulped: "Okay." To make matters worse Hermione didn't look very happy about the news too. No snogging session this afternoon, Neville feared.

.

_Pinegrew Manor – around Lunch time_

.

"Welcome to Pinegrew Manor."

Despite Agatha being still the owner of the estate, Roxanne as the current Lady of the House had the honor and duty to greet the guests. For a short moment Harry was imaging a future with Daphne taking that role, clinging to his arm, a long dress flattering her shapes.

"Thank you for your invitation, Lady Greengrass." Emma Granger shook hands with Roxanne, while Dan used the moment to look around. It was recognizable how impressed he was. Certainly the Grangers weren't poor by any means, but this house belonged to a completely foreign world. He could imagine several generations living in this palace, meeting each other only every few days, perhaps each Sunday for the family dinner.

"Please call me Roxanne," she responded. "Your lovely daughter told me so much about both of you that I have the impression to already know you for years."

A little chinwag continued between the two ladies and Hermione used the distraction to enter the sitting room where the other guests were already waiting, having arrived while she had been in London. Near the window Harry was in full cry with Augusta Longbottom, the elder lady fully concentrated listening to the young man and only sparing a few seconds to wave her grandson a welcome. Hermione wasn't too eager to speak with her. She had written her a few times in the last weeks and had perhaps been a bit too angry and determined in her discussion about the new wand and the steady comparisons to his father.

"Hello Hermione."

The sight of Remus was a very welcome one to her. For a moment Hermione sent a smile in the direction of the large black Grim at his side. With Augusta around and a few other guests expected for the afternoon, it certainly was the best for him to stay in his Animagus form. _Would she be able to master this spell too_, Hermione pondered. She was really eager to learn that particular spell but she feared that it wasn't her kind of magic. Harry – yes, absolutely. Neville – perhaps. Daphne – yes, the question of those weird other 'abilities' left aside. But she? She really didn't know if she should allow herself to hope for it to happen. The disappointment would only be the greater.

For a moment she thought about the conversation Harry wanted to have with both men. _I'll speak with them after Christmas_, he had told her_. I don't want to spoil the mood_. She wouldn't be there. That conversation was between them three alone to be had.

"So … you and Neville?" Remus showed Hermione an arch smile and enjoyed watching her blush. The girl nodded weakly, glancing in Augusta's direction to make sure that Neville's Grandma wasn't listening.

"I always expected that you and Harry …"

"Oh no," Hermione shook her head. "That would be so wrong. No, Daphne is far more appropriate for him. She's more 'earthen' than I, more patient; able to hold him to the ground when his temper is doing a summersault again."

"Yes, he needs that from time to time. He's too similar to James sometimes. Luckily there is much of Lily in him too."

"Roxanne mentioned that too. But he already changed in the last months. Perhaps his Occlumency and Meditation lessons are helping too."

"Occlumency," Remus wondered. "Meditation? Quite I change I have to say."

Hermione nodded with a smile but before she had a chance to respond, she noticed a shadow of danger nearing her position.

"Miss Granger, may I have a word with you?" Augusta's expression wasn't the friendliest one and her voice promised pain.

.

Hermione followed the elder lady without much enthusiasm into the adjoining room and watched her nervously as she waved Neville away and closed the door. "About that letter …"

Was it the influence of Harry's temper in the last years? Or perhaps the last discussion with her parents two hours ago still showed an impact. In any case Hermione wasn't willing to be the quiet listener anymore, especially if her conversation partner was just plain wrong.

"Let me explain," she stopped Augusta with a gesture. "I understand that your son was important to you … is important to you. And I realize that you only wanted to give Neville something to remember him. But to achieve this he could put his father's wand in a showcase and put it on the mantelpiece. He doesn't have to use it. You know as well as I do that a Wizard has to use his own wand to get the best results. Yes, Neville can use his father's wand but with his own he will be far better at casting. You should have allowed him to have his own wand from the beginning.

"The last years hadn't been easy for him. How often had he been insulted because of his apparent lack of abilities, because with that wand he always was subpar in the practical part? And to compare him with his father every day was certainly not helpful. Neville needs approval and encouragement, not 'you could do better' every day."

"You know, young lady," Augusta glared "that I pondered about being your magical guardian in the future; and the guardian of your parents too, allowing their house to be warded against fire and other dangers. But now I'm not convinced anymore that it would be wise to burden myself with such a stubborn and impertinent person as you are."

Hermione paled. She had expected Augusta to be a bit angry, but not quite this angry. Not only would she retract her offer, but there was even the very real possibility that she would be opposed to any relationship between Hermione and Neville. Repressing her tears she responded:

"I really would have liked to have you as my guardian. Neville thinks highly of you and I heard some wonderful stories about your abilities and character. But if you're unable to cope with me, than it would be better to stop this now. I'm certainly not willing to change in the future. Some things are more important, Neville's self-confidence and welfare to name only two."

Augusta death-glared at her and Hermione reciprocated at her best. For a long time both women – the old and the young – weren't willing to look away, to lose this battle of wills. At last Augusta's face suddenly relaxed into a very warm smile. "You really like him, don't you?"

"I do," Hermione whispered. "He deserves it."

"He'll need a strong woman at his side, a woman willing to fight for him."

"No," Hermione shook her head in a determined manner. "He needs friendship, love and support. He needs to evolve more self-confidence and a reason to develop his own abilities. Neville certainly doesn't need to walk away from one strong woman to the next. Neville is more than a boy with a green thumb. Don't forget how he won the house cup in the first year because of his bravery to stand up even against his friends. He'll be strong himself."

Augusta's smile broadened and suddenly Hermione understood: This had been a test. Augusta wanted to know if Hermione was willing and able to fight for Neville. The elder lady was very head-strong and respected the same trait in other women. A weight was taken of her mind – surely weighing more than a hundred pounds – and left her hovering in the air, light-headed.

"Not many young women your age would be able to endure my wraith as you did, young lady." This time she said 'young lady' with far more positive emotion. "I'm impressed. I would be honored should you accept my offer of magical guardianship." Augusta offered her hand and with a sigh of relief Hermione accepted.

"You'll see … with his new wand and after Anne's removal of that despicable charm on him …"

"Charm? What charm?"

Hermione realized that Neville wasn't the only one with the talent to say something inconsiderate instead of simply staying quiet. She had intended to leave it to Anne to explain the result of her spell. Shakily she started to explain: The potion, the spell, the result and how Anne intended to remove the spell. Anxious she awaited the reaction, but she hadn't to wait for too long.

While her little speech she had watched Augusta, the old lady slowly getting quite a bit of red color on her cheeks. Her eyes were incandescent now. Hermione noticed that something was really wrong, as the glasses in the sideboard started to clink, the windows following some seconds later as did the ceiling lamp. If Hermione thought that Augusta had been angry before, she now had to admit how wrong she had been.

Now Augusta was really angry, angry in a way that left every temper tantrum of Harry or Ron look like a gentle murmur.

_It's like the temperature would be rising_, Hermione mused. Seconds later she realized that it wasn't only an impression. While in the past Harry's anger had been sometimes strong enough to trigger icy winds around him, Augusta's magical rage apparently unleashed its energy in a different form.

Neville tore the door open a few seconds later. Someone had started to yell blasphemous curses, someone … he needed a few moments to realize that it was his Grandma who behaved like that and a whole time longer to really believe it. She was sputtering cusses she would have washed from his mouth using soap – a few of them he didn't even understand – and he stood there totally flabbergasted. After a while Augusta realized that her grandson was listening to her. Instead of stopping she changed to Gaelic curses, something Neville had heard about from his Uncle but never before had 'the pleasure' to watch. He had always thought the stories about even Dumbledore and Voldemort fearing her wraith to be pure exaggeration but in this moment he wasn't so sure anymore.

Accompanied by waves of angry magic, her feet stomping on the stony ground, Augusta went to Anne and demanded to hear a confirmation about what Hermione had just told her. Anne complied with a wicked smile.

.

"And you can help him?" Augusta asked, now far calmer again. Her eyes were still blazing but at least she didn't yell anymore. The tea laced with brandy had certainly helped her to get back a modicum of composure. Harry smiled an angry smile, thinking … hoping … to be present at the next meeting of Augusta and Dumbledork.

"It will be a difficult ritual best cast on New Year's Day and it'll need some preparations. I thought it would be better to stay silent about it instead of sending him to St. Mungo. They have a broader experience with the spell, at least the older Healers, but I wanted to hold it 'in the family'."

Augusta nodded. She knew that the spell had been used in the past to 'calm' dangerous and mentally instable Wizards. It was – used in a stronger way than the one done to her grandson – something similar to a magical lobotomy and a very disgusting and outdated 'healing method', a method not taught for at least two decades now.

"It will be difficult, but yes: I can help him, be assured." Anne smiled and her serious tone convinced Augusta. She nodded her agreement. "But don't expect an instant change. Alright, presumably there will be a slight improvement within a few hours. But he'll need several weeks to really get better and months to reach the alignment he should have had for years. I want to be careful. Better we use a second ritual later – kind of fine tuning – than be too hasty now. I assume that's in your interest too."

"It is." To Neville Augusta appeared very old in that moment. Many emotions were visible on her face: Regret, relief, anger and many more. Her eyes told her grandson how much she regretted her behavior in the past, that she had scolded him instead of finding the reason of his magical weakness. "Neville, I'm …" She hesitated, tears brimming in her eyes. Augusta felt like she had betrayed the trust of her son. How could she be so blind?

Neville felt a small push in his side. Hermione mouthed '_Go_'. With a nod he obeyed and hurried at his Grandma's side, hugged her heartily. "You're the best, Grandma."

Augusta patted his head, forced a small smile. "You're the best, Neville, I'm so sorry …"

After a long silence she explained in a low voice: "After the attack on your parents Headmaster Dumbledore came to our house. He examined you. That at least he told me. He said he wasn't sure about your … your talents. A few times he returned in the course of the next two years. Each time he examined you, cast some spells. I thought …"

Augusta sighed deeply. "He told me that your magical core is too weak, perhaps from the experience. He told me that you would never be a powerful mage. That's the reason I gave you the wand of your father. I thought it wouldn't hurt; that even with another wand …"

She hugged Neville again. "When Pomona told me about your talents with herbs and plants I was so proud. Not only it is something important but also you wouldn't need much magic to find a niche later, a niche to be happy and content. I should have pondered more about the problem, find a way to help you."

"Don't blame yourself, Augusta," Agatha tried to calm her old friend. "Who could have expected something like that from Dumbledore? No, please don't blame yourself."

"No," Hermione whispered angrily. "Blame Dumbledore and rip him apart." Her blazing eyes caused shudders on everyone in the room and prompted a wicked smile on Augusta's lips. _Oh yes, she wouldn't forget_.

.

The next hours went by in a much calmer and happier way. Amelia Bones made a short appearance with her niece Susan and her best friend Hannah Abbott. While everyone exchanged small presents and best wishes for Christmas, Hermione showed clearly that Neville belonged to her now. Hannah had begun to show interest in the boy since last winter, but never done more than speak a few words with him.

To see him holding hands with Hermione, a goofy grin on his lips send the right message to Hannah. With a sigh she registered the approving nod of Augusta. Hannah knew that in a traditional family like the Longbottoms this meant something like 'official agreement'. Perhaps even a kind of formal binding – perhaps a promise ring – could be expected in the near future, his fifteenth birthday at last. Her small nod towards Hermione told the girl that she had understood.

Neville noticed nothing of this exchange. He was too preoccupied with his newest book. Harry had given it to him after Remus found it in the Potter library. It was a very old and rare book about water plants of the Mediterranean region. Very careful and gentle he turned the pages.

A high-pitched squeal caught his attention and with a soft smile he watched his girlfriend as she caressed her new turtle neck. It had been a present from his Grandma, knitted after he had written her how unhappy she had been in the past to never receive one of the Weasley ones. Now she had her own one, knitted from bronze wool, the Gryffindor crest added in red with a prominent 'H' integrated. The small Longbottom family crest on her left shoulder told everyone that Hermione was under Augusta's protection from now on.

A few minutes later Hermione put the book away Harry had given to her – '_Journalism through the Ages', to tell you that not every journalist is like Skeeter_ – and looked expectantly at Daphne. She had two presents in her hands, offering one each to Hermione and Emma Granger. "I thought you could use this … for exchange … for remembering later."

Emma and her daughter unwrapped the packages and found two very similar looking books in them, books with empty pages. "You use them to write letters. Write a sentence, a longer passage or a whole letter. Tip on the page with the small wand included and the message will appear on the second book. The small wand to activate this will function for your mother too. There are other methods to transmit messages, magical mirrors and the like, but I thought that you would like the idea to read these letters again in the future, perhaps to your children before they go to Hogwarts."

.

"Don't expect leaps and jumps in your magical strength after reading this, Harry," Anne appeased him. She had bestowed a book to him about the training of his magical core. "It is more to control your core and use it optimally, efficiently, and to steady it faster. Every core is growing very fast until twenty to twenty-five, far slower after that. But not before you're seventeen will your core be stable enough to allow serious training. It is like a muscle or memory training. You have to train, not too less else nothing happens, not too much else you'll overtax yourself. Be careful and only try the exercises to steady your core for the beginning. We'll speak about it in the summer again."

Another book, Harry groaned inwardly, another lesson in his already full week. Like she had read his mind – a thought not too unrealistic in Harry's opinion – Anne smiled: "It is nothing additional. You'll see how well the basic exercises for Occlumency, Meditation and Stabilization can be integrated with each other. Two hours a week and five minutes every evening before you go sleeping would be more than enough. Steady exercise is much more important than forced afternoons. Daphne already owns this book and I'll give copies to Hermione and Neville too. Perhaps you could train with them. It would be especially important for Neville after the ritual to spend some minutes each day with the book."

He had already anticipated that. To change the alignment of Neville's magic would certainly send his core into an uproar. "By the way: Please don't assume that I think your emotions to be something to be quelled. Yes, we instruct you how to control them. But they are important too. Next week I'll show you something completely different about them. I hope for great results. Emotions and control are two sides of the same coin, both important. To allow your emotions to control you is dangerous, to suppress them is unhealthy. Please don't forget that."

.

Harry had seen Daphne smile when she unwrapped the books she got from Minerva McGonagall – _a basic guide to your inner animal_ – and Filius Flitwick – _Charming results: How to interpret detection spells_. But now, with the books from Roxanne and Anne in her hands, she was pouting and looked a bit depressed. Her mother watched her a bit anxiously while Anne stared unhappy at her. Apparently both had hoped for a better reaction. Slowly he went at her side and took a seat on the couch.

Without a word Daphne put both books in his hands. The one from her mother seemed to be about the healing arts regarding unusual patients and using unusual spells. Harry found chapters about magical animals, Werewolves, Veela and even Dragons as well as the description of a number of spells he never had heard about before.

The other one was written in strange symbols.

"I didn't know you speak … Greek, isn't it?"

"I don't speak it, only read. And it is ancient Greek." Daphne traced the symbols with her finger: "Spiritualism, the healing of the mind."

"And," Harry asked softly: "You don't like them?"

"I do, very much even" Daphne sighed. "But … I feel cornered … cramped. You like Quidditch really much, don't you, Harry?" He nodded and Daphne continued: "Perhaps you'll even play professional later, but certainly you don't know for sure now. What if everyone around you would tell you how wonderful you are at Quidditch, how they expect you to play it professionally. Every present is a broom or something else about it; every book you get discusses Quidditch."

"I would feel cornered too," Harry agreed.

"I really like to heal. And I know that I have a special talent for this occupation. But sometimes this is simply too much."

"You should tell them. You have a wonderful mother and a fantastic aunt, they'll understand."

.

"It was really nice that you've been here, Pansy."

The last hour had been weird, Harry mused, even bordering on the absurd. Dinner was approaching and with it the last guests, time to go for Pansy and the other Slytherins. Like the Bones before the Slytherins had only been at Pinegrew Manor for a short visit, to bridge the time until the Christmas celebrations of their own families started.

He had known that not only Tracey and Blaise but Pansy and Millicent too would be there, but the amicable conversation especially between Pansy and Daphne had been a surprise. And according to Roxanne's face he wasn't the only one who watched flabbergasted how Daphne hugged Pansy farewell. What had happened to change the relation between them so radically? Pansy had already been supportive at the Great Hall incident but this cordial behavior was suspicious.

"Seemed the least we could do after Nott's little stunt …" Tracey clasped her mouth shut with her hand, her eyes widely staring at a fuming Daphne. _Idiot_, she mouthed.

"What little stunt do you mean?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed, his voice telling the girl that he wasn't in the mood to hear elusions.

"Nothing special," Daphne tried to calm her voice. "He had been his usual prat after the ball."

"After the Ball? But I accompanied you to your dorm afterwards."

"Yeah," Daphne shrugged. "They were waiting there." For a moment she didn't realize her small slip in wording and interpreted his expression as the usual Harry 'I'm to blame for this'. "You couldn't guess that the trouble would be waiting in the dorm instead of on the way there, Harry."

"They?" Harry growled. "They were waiting?"

"Harry, it is okay. Professor Snape handled the matter; Pansy, Millie and Balou came to my rescue. Nothing to get worked up. Leave it, please."

"How can I leave it? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because of this," Daphne made a wide gesture. "I didn't want to spoil the mood. I would have told you after our return to Hogwarts."

"But I want to know things like this," Harry growled, ignoring the sour expression of Daphne. "I can't protect you if you …"

"I … don't … need … your … protection," Daphne accentuated every word with a poke of her finger into Harry's chest. "Argh" with a yell of anger she turned around and before Harry could stop her, she left the room, closing the door behind her with much force.

"Splendid," Hermione groaned.

After shortly glaring at her, Harry addressed Tracey: "Spill. The whole story."

And so Tracey did. How she awakened and reached the room. Nott and his two cronies. Daphne's bruises and how she kicked Nott into the head. Pansy and Millie to the rescue. Balou punishing Nott with wild claws.

"Daphne begged him to handle the matter after Christmas and Professor Snape agreed," Tracey concluded.

"It is already around in some circles," Pansy added with a low voice. "You only didn't hear about it because this year you're limiting your party to close friends and family," she explained to Roxanne. Daphne's mother was obviously no less angry than Harry and quite concerned about her daughter, but had been quiet so far. "Nott's two cronies won't return to Hogwarts. Their parents extracted them and they'll send them to Durmstrang from now on. They wanted to avoid an expulsion."

"And Nott?" Harry asked, a little calmer now.

"I don't know. His father is very important. I don't think that much more than a detention will happen to him."

Before Harry's temper had a chance to raise again, Roxanne put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll speak with Professor Snape about it. You, young man, should speak with Daphne now, but in a calm way. I understand you, really. I'm concerned too. But it is her decision what to tell us. Please don't push her away because you're afraid, concerned or blame yourself. Daphne is a strong young woman able to make her own decisions. It is hard for me as her mother to realize that, but I have to. And you have to see this too. Equal partners – only this way it can endure."

Harry opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to respond. Then he nodded and smiled weakly. "It's difficult."

"I know," Roxanne hugged him. "We'll learn it, we both." She pushed him gently towards the door behind Daphne had vanished.

Before he followed her, Harry said "Pansy … Millie … thank you for helping her. I won't forget that."

.

Daphne was sitting at the window, staring outward. She had a present on her knees, caressing it gently without looking at it. Harry felt a warm wave rolling through his body. Since weeks, but especially since seeing her in her ball gown, he had realized how beautiful she was. Watching her mother and how similar they were in appearance, he had an idea what a beauty she would be fully grown up.

He should have trusted her, her and her judgment. If she wanted to stay silent about the Nott incident, then it was her decision. Roxanne had been right about that. And she would have told him later. Had he reacted calmer when told earlier about it? Presumably not. His – how did Hermione call it? His hero-complex? – It was very strong developed, he knew. And now he had to add the direst urge to protect Daphne. _Remus would be proud of my inner wolf_, Harry grinned weakly.

"I'm sorry, Daphne." The girl tensed. She turned around and watched him silently, hints of tears on her cheeks.

"I shouldn't … I'll try to …" Harry hesitated, groaned. "This is really difficult. Could we perhaps out-duel this? It would be easier."

Daphne sniggered, stood up and left her place. "I don't know. I don't want to hurt you. You bruise too easily."

"It's a boys' thing," Harry grinned. After a moment of silence he asked: "You kicked him into the face?"

Daphne shrugged. "It was an easy target after he went to the ground. My foot into his groin does such things," she explained, prompting Harry to flinch in sympathy.

"Remind me never to annoy you," he whispered, his hand caressing her cheek. She stood very near now, Harry realized, feeling the warmth of her body.

"I'll remind you … by one means or another." Her lopsided grin promised pain should he forget again how to behave.

Harry flinched again. "Oh … I completely forgot to give you this." He offered a small present to her.

Daphne accepted it and shoved her own, larger present into his arms. "It is a bit … weird … after our discussion this afternoon. But I wanted to protect you a bit in return. You know: Bruising easily and all."

He opened the package and blinked: "A jacket from Dragon leather?" This would really help, not only in a fight but on the Quidditch field too. Harry smiled. Yes, she was correct about being a weird present after their healing-Quidditch conversation. But it was a very thoughtful gift nonetheless. "It's wonderful." He especially liked the Griffon on the back with a Golden Snitch in his claws.

Daphne nodded shortly absent-minded and squealed after a glance onto her own present. In the small case, resting on velvet, she saw a platinic necklace with a large citrine.

"Your birthstone. It represents optimism, clear mind and creativity," Harry explained.

"Put it on," she urged.

Harry followed the command, carefully putting the necklace around her neck, his fingers perhaps lingering on her soft skin a tad too long.

"Thank you," Daphne whispered.

"Don't I deserve more than …"

Before he could finish the sentence sweet lips were pressed on his, ending all thoughts about speaking furthermore.

.

_Dinner time_

.

The last group of guests had arrived some minutes before and now they prepared to have dinner. Harry was especially happy about Tonks' presence. He liked her despite her clumsiness and grinned as he had to watch her ogling his former DADA teacher. Remus apparently was clueless about his pretty fan, but the smiles and giggles of the Pinegrew ladies would certainly change this quite fast.

Together with Tonks her parents had arrived. Andromeda he already knew but now it was the first time to speak with her husband Ted. A Muggleborn wizard – _a disgrace to the Black family, _Andromeda's parents had judged back then – he had been the reason to Andromeda's disownment twenty years ago. According to the loving looks she exchanged with her husband, she didn't regret her decision.

"Ciddy," Augusta addressed the house elf. "You forgot dishes and cutlery for Mister Black."

All motions stopped, some faces paled, only Agatha grinned.

"You knew?" Harry asked hoarsely.

"Perhaps I'm old but neither blind nor deaf, young man." She seated herself and took her napkin. "And by the way: Frank told me fifteen years ago."

"And … why … Misses Bones," Harry stammered.

"It is not my business who is a guest at Pinegrew Manor. That's for Lady Greengrass to decide. Now, please, let's eat. I'm hungry." After a short pause she added: "And I wouldn't be too secure about Amelia's lack of knowledge. She has a very sharp mind."

.

They lingered over the dinner, enjoying the moment as one happy family. For a while Harry felt what it would be like, this normality with Daphne, Roxanne and Sirius. _Too bad that she was married to that prat_, he pondered. On the other hand he couldn't really imagine her married to Sirius. _He wouldn't survive a week_, Harry grinned.

"Cissy visited me."

Several sets of cutlery hit the table after that announcement. Tonks stared, her mouth working silently. Sirius frowned, waiting for an explanation. Only Roxanne appeared to not be surprised.

"When?" Tonks asked at last.

"Yesterday, when you were working at the Ministry."

"You …" Tonks stared quizzical at her father, but Ted shook his head: "I knew about it but I wasn't there too. Had a small walk in the park."

"She wanted to speak with me alone," Andromeda explained. "It was quite pleasant."

She struggled to appear calm and composed, but Harry didn't need Daphne's sensibility to realize how shaken she still was by the experience. As far as he knew the sisters hadn't spoken with each other for twenty years. The wishes she had begged Tonks to deliver had perhaps been the first hint of acknowledging her sister's existence since then.

"What did she want," Sirius asked with a stern voice.

"She wanted to speak with the Head of House Black," Andromeda explained: "With you."

Shocked silence. It was already difficult to imagine that she had visited her sister, but that she wanted to meet Sirius was … staggering.

"I'm not the Head of House Black, at least not officially before I'm able to stand before the Wizengamot."

"She knows, but she wants to meet you nonetheless. And before you ask: She didn't tell me about what she wants to speak with you. I have some ideas but it is really her business to tell you."

"Why should I comply?"

"Because she begged you to meet her," Harry interjected. "I can imagine how difficult this was to her. And remember how she had been at Hogsmeade. I think … I think she changed. You should at least give her a chance."

"I agree with Harry," Roxanne said. "Narcissa certainly still isn't a sweet lady and I don't expect her to suddenly adopt a Muggleborn child. But she changed this year. Please, at least hear her out."

.

_Late evening_

.

With a thoughtful smile Roxanne had gestured Harry to come along. It was nearly time to go to bed now. With Daphne holding his hand – her body tense, Harry noticed – he followed Roxanne to his room; Hermione, Neville, Agatha, Remus and Sirius close behind.

In front of the door to his room she stopped shortly. "It is time for your last present, Harry. It has been a common gift from us four" She pointed towards her mother, Remus and Sirius "and it is only a beginning. The gift is unfinished, yet."

With a quizzical look Harry walked into his room, as Roxanne opened the door now. All seemed to be the same as before: His bed, his desk, his trunk … a picture. Harry stopped. Hanging on the wall was a picture, an oil painting measuring three times three feet, depicting a cozy little house and in front of it … his parents. They were sitting on a wooden garden bench – red with bronze ornaments – his father sitting straight, his mother leaning against him, her head with that renowned bunch of flame red hair resting against his shoulders. Both were sleeping.

Harry had been staring at the pictures for minutes as Roxanne gently put her arm around his shoulders. "Perhaps you know those magical pictures that were created to allow someone to speak with deceased people."

Harry nodded weakly and responded with a low voice. "The headmasters of Hogwarts have such pictures."

"Correct," Roxanne agreed. "And the Ministers of Magic are immortalized in the same form. They were created while the person still lived and the pictures were sleeping until the person died. Regretfully this kind of picture wasn't possible to do, because they have to be started while living. This is another, a weaker kind of magical picture. The artist used one of Sirius' memories to create the picture and we others added our own. You have to add more memories, the more the better, to finish the picture

"I've already spoken with Professor Sprout, McGonagall and Flitwick as well as Madam Pomfrey. They're willing to add their memories, too. And we could search for some of the former students that had been their friends. Here" She gave him a parchment roll and a small bronze rod "you'll need these to add memories. They are working for Muggles too."

Roxanne gave him a meaningful look. "While we four knew your parents very well, it is important to integrate aspects of a different kind too; given from people who didn't like your parents or were at least critic. You should ask your Aunt Petunia and Professor Snape especially, they would be very important."

"But they hate me. And they hated my parents."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Roxanne stared silently at the picture for a while. "If you'll have collected enough memories, they'll awaken and able to speak with you. I don't know when or how many memories you'll need, perhaps a dozen, perhaps a hundred. I hope not so many" Roxanne smiled. "Remember: I don't want to replace your mother. She loved you deeply and would have been a tremendous mother, I'm certain. I really hope that this will succeed. Happy Christmas Harry."

.

_**A/N**_

_I always wondered why there aren't more magical pictures. There has to be a kind of limiting factor. Perhaps it's simply the costs. In my story it is the prerequisite to start the picture while the person still lives. The alternative Roxanne offers is a much more complicated version and needs the cooperation of many people (and the result would still not be of the same quality). _

_I haven't mentioned all presents, there would simply be too many of them. One is especially missing. I realized too late that the turtle neck – despite being given because of Neville's suggestion – is still Augusta's present. So I'm lacking an idea for a gift to Hermione given by Neville. Any ideas?_

_From all the presents only the picture and the healing books while play a greater role later. Oh yes: And the plant book. I only say second task._


	28. Chapter 28 Good and bad news

_**A/N**_

_About the __**prophecy**__: At this moment (middle of year 4) – if I remember correctly – only 3 persons knew about the prophecy: Dumbledore, Snape and Voldemort. I don't expect other Order members or Death Eaters to know more (perhaps a few know about the existence but not the content). I'm not sure how much Dumbledore would have said to the Potters ("Why have we to hide?") and as result how much Sirius and Remus know. According to the books I assume they know nothing about it._

_About the __**Horcrux**__: Principally the same is true. Dumbledore should know about it/them after the second year/diary incident, but nobody else. However … see this chapter._

_About __**Animagus**__: With that low number of known Animagi (7 registered from thousands of wizards) there has to be something special about that spell, not only the effort. The spell is simply too valuable not to learn it (think about the possibilities for an Auror or Death Eater). So in my story you need a talent to learn the spell (or belong to a family like the Pinegrews)._

_About __**Pictures**__: Hogwarts doesn't count in my opinion. Think about it: It's a whole thinking, magical castle. But specifically I meant the lack of pictures of the Potters, Sirius (after 5__th__ year), perhaps some important teachers, Luna's mother etc. Either it's an error/oversight in the canon or there is some limiting factor. By the way: This limit (and its workaround) is a plot factor in my story._

.

**Good and bad news**

.

_The Burrow – 28__th__ of December_

.

_Why_, Molly mused, _why had it to be that blonde poison_?

Angrily she devoted her full energy to the washing-up again. She needed this simple work to calm herself again. Charlie had sent a message this morning that he would stay until January the 2nd at Delacour Manor, stay with that Veela Beast.

Their shouts of joy and envy had earned the twins some extra labor in the wood shed, certainly no fun at this temperature. But it was deserved. At least Ron had understood her. Her youngest son had perhaps been even angrier than she. Arthur had left the house after their last quarrel for a few days to visit a cousin and so wasn't in the house. Not that Molly expected to share the same opinion with her husband about Charlie dating the wrong person. The quarrel had been about Ginny naturally, the one and only issue for the past week. Ginny and how to turn the tables again, that had been the question.

A clink told Molly that her newest fit of temper had cost her a plate again. She had to Reparo it later, Molly sighed. The Weasley Matriarch took a few deeps breaths. _She had denied the idea_, Molly groaned. _Stupid girl didn't see that harsher methods were necessary now_. They had to act fast and determined, not idle around. The fact that Ginny was unwilling to use a love potion or at least a perfume of compulsion to get Harry's attention back had been an unwelcome surprise.

_It was Charlie's fault_, Molly was sure. Not only did he evolve this stupid idea to court a half-breed bastard – a French bastard to add, unable to speak a normal language. No, he even had the impertinence to disturb her plans for her little princess. Ginny Potter – that had a nice sound. And a marriage would allow the Weasleys to reclaim their old position at last, something Arthur – nice, sweet but far too weak-minded and without real ambition – would never succeed at.

For a while she had hoped for a career at the Ministry, but she had stopped dreaming about that for a long time now. Arthur simply hadn't the inner strength, allowed others to use him as a stepping stone in their own career.

No, it was her duty to lead the family back to fame and money, as she … as her family … deserved it. Then she could spit all those Prewitts into their faces who had laughed about her when she had chosen Arthur to be her man. All those haughty Uncles, Aunts and Cousins would try to crawl back into her graces, her stupid family that had disowned her twenty-five years ago, that had laughed about her and the low position and weird hobbies of Arthur. Molly Weasley would have the last laugh.

She had only to speak with Dumbledore and make up some plan.

.

_Pinegrew Manor - 28__th__ of December _

.

When Harry entered the breakfast room, only Roxanne and Anne were already present – as he had hoped for. The Grangers liked to sleep in a bit and Hermione and Neville usually started the day with a cup of hot chocolate and reading a book side by side. Sometimes each read his own book, sometimes one read aloud to the other. It was a cozy sight, Harry had to admit, a sight he didn't want to disturb. And Daphne …

Daphne was the reason for him to be here at this early hour.

"She's still irresolute?" Roxanne asked and Harry nodded. They had undergone the Animagus test the day before and as feared there was a decision to be made.

.

_The day before_

.

The whole 'family' had been waiting in the lab: Roxanne, Agatha, Anne, Remus and Sirius together with Harry, Neville and Daphne. Only Hermione was still missing. Roxanne had sent Ciddy to fetch the girl – assuming correctly that some reading material was the reason for her absence – and now her fast steps announced her arrival. The opening door showed her grinning face and Hermione entered the room, waving her exemplar of the Daily Prophet.

"Incredible. It's incredible."

Agatha sighed. "Yes, my dear, certainly … whatever. But we wanted to …"

"Incredible. How did that happen?" Hermione was unstoppable in the moment, waving her newspaper and grinning like her face tried to split in two. "Sirius, that so …"

"Incredible?" Sirius tried to help. "Perhaps you should tell us what's so exciting. I never expected to see you so thrilled about reading something in a newspaper – and that newspaper to add."

"Oh," Hermione shook her head and showed a second newspaper. "It has to be correct. The Quibbler has the same story."

Harry erupted into a fit of laughter. While Hermione stared at him flabbergasted, he tried to calm down again, but a single look at the Quibbler only restarted his fit of ravenous laughter again. "I never …" he struggled to find words "I never expected that you would use the Quibbler as a reason to trust a story." Another fit of laughter later he continued: "Do you really know what you just said? 'It has to be correct because it's in the Quibbler too'. That's … that's fantastic, Hermione."

Hermione glared at him, but as she noticed that the rest of the family was grinning too, she was unable to deny: "Perhaps … the Quibbler improved." She huffed. "Whatever, if you don't want to know about Sirius …"

"About me?" Sirius grabbed the Prophet and looked for the corresponding article. He hadn't to search very long as it was the lead article:

.

**Cold blooded murderer or victim of the bureaucracy?**

**Order revoked to give Sirius Black the Dementor's kiss on sight**

.

_According to informed Ministry sources the order to give Sirius Black – mass murderer and Azkaban escapee – the Dementor's kiss on sight has been revoked by nobody else than Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE._

_Amelia Bones: "The Ministry is still convinced that Mister Black is the main suspect in the betrayal of Family Potter and the following deaths of James and Lily Potter, Peter Pettigrew and twelve Muggles. But there have been too many pending questions, too many unsolved riddles about the whole case. It has never been examined in a convincing manner why he betrayed his best friends or why he didn't run after the deed. We still want to capture him, but alive. The order to have him kissed on sight was overhasty and not according to the regulations of my department._

_I assure you that we'll catch him, interrogate and pass sentence on him as the law demands: Fair, honest and beyond any doubt."_

.

"He's still guilty," Harry sighed.

"Yes," Hermione smiled "but it is a first step."

"Amelia is taking a great risk to announce this," Agatha agreed. "She's going against the wishes of the Minister with this step. Not only will you survive an arrest now, Sirius, but you'll get a public trial, something they should have done twelve years ago."

"Why …" Harry hesitated. "Why did she …"

"Because of you," Roxanne explained calmly. "I'm certain she knew who that Grim had been on her visit. Augusta told you not to underestimate Amelia. If Sirius would really be to blame for the deaths of your parents, you would be the one to wish his death more than anybody else. But if you're willing to trust him, if you're willing to fight for his freedom, then the thought seems worthy to be pursued that perhaps something is wrong about the whole accusation. Yes, I assume that your opinion convinced her … and perhaps the pure fact that there never has been a trial before." Roxanne smiled shortly. "Something that Agatha perhaps mentioned to her."

.

"Whatever," Anne knocked on the table. "We're here to determine something completely different. Take a seat." She gestured towards four comfortable armchairs and collected the four phials with the prepared potion. "This potion will put you into a deep sleep for about an hour. In this time you'll realize if you have the talent to master the Animagus spell. With a bit of luck you'll even learn what kind of form you could master. Every one of you will have one of us as his companion in this search. Agatha will be with you, Harry. Roxanne and Sirius have to accompany Hermione and Neville. And I'll follow you, Daphne. Drink now and relax."

.

_He awoke … in a way. The sun was burning down on his naked body. Hastily Harry looked around but Agatha wasn't visible. There was only the faintest sense of someone watching him. Looking down he saw his normal body, perhaps a bit older and fully grown but unchanged. Shouldn't there be …_

_A rustling in the bushes behind him prompted Harry to whirl around. Something was watching him, something dangerous. Yellow eyes stared at him; the deep rumbling sound of heavy breathing was hearable. As the creature started to move a primitive fear caused Harry to run. He didn't wait, he didn't look. Run, run away from the creature his heart told him. _

_Heavy feet crashed on the ground, the big creature slowly getting faster and closing the distance. The grassy ground turned to stone; a cliff became visible in front of him. Instead of stopping he only ran faster, hoping that there would be an escape route, a narrow trail or a lake below to jump in. Hot breathe hit his back. Something snapped at him, missing barely. Where was Agatha? With a last burst of energy Harry accelerated and jumped over the cliff. The stony ground was below him, nothing there to stop the fall. In sheer terror Harry started to yell, only to hear an unknown sound emanate his mouth. His arms started to move, futilely trying to stop the fall._

_Suddenly his fall slowed down, turned into an upward movement. His sight changing, sharpening to an incredible precision, the slightest motion of his arms allowing him to change direction, he only started to understand when he got higher and higher, the ground now far more below him than on every broom ride before. Wings … he had wings. A whoop of delight, resembling no sound that normally left a human mouth, resonated through the air. _

_A shadow, the large form of a Hippogriff at his side – for a moment the black feathers confused him but that dent on the beak was unmistakable: Buckbeak, his colors changed to hide his identity. Harry's friend seemed to enjoy watching him. For a while they flew side by side, relaxing in the sun, relishing the wind._

_Suddenly another shadow swooped down, sending Buckbeak away in fear, missing Harry's wing only by a narrow margin as did the fiery breath seconds later. His fear returning even stronger now, Harry used all tricks from his Quidditch training to evade his enemy – a full grown Dragon. The magical creature ignored Buckbeak and didn't allow Harry to shake him off. The beast was simply too fast and minute by minute Harry lost all hope to evade any longer. A split second too slow, a hit to close and pain erupted from his left wing, sending Harry tumbling down. Unable to stop his second fall Harry watched the ground closing in, hoping that somehow something would change again. His body wanted to change, he felt it. But it was too late. A second before crashing into the ground some invisible hand snatched him, pulled him aside with much force, enough force to save him but too fast to stay conscious._

_Saved at least, Harry pondered, before all went black around him._

.

"At least you have an Animagus form, Daphne" Harry heard a female voice through the cotton wool that was wrapped around his head.

"Hermione," a boy answered. "I understand that you're disappointed that there is a spell you can't master."

"It's not simply a spell," Hermione pouted. "It's the Animagus spell, something important. Something …"

"Something your shining example Minerva is able to but not you."

"Yes, exactly," Hermione whined. "I know, I know. I should have expected it. In a way I did, but still …"

"Don't you think it is even more disturbing for Daphne?" Neville asked with a soft voice. "To know that she could master that spell but perhaps has to deny the possibility?"

"Four of my female family members are able to change their form," Daphne agreed with a troubled voice. "Should I ever have a daughter – something very possible with female children being prominent in my family – I can expect her to learn Animagus too." Daphne sighed: "I really have to …" She hesitated for a moment: "Harry? Are you awake?"

Slowly he opened his eyes. He was resting in his bed, his friends sitting around him, Agatha only a few steps away. Now she came at his side, looking down a bit troubled: "Hi Harry. I'm sorry. I should have stepped in earlier. But I still hoped that you would change again."

"Something … I felt something seconds before you extracted me," Harry admitted. "What does it mean? Why was there a dragon chasing me?"

"Normally a wizard or witch has only one form to change into. The form is not negotiable and decided by your nature. This is the case with Daphne and Neville as it had been with Anne, Roxanne and me. And in a way it is the same for you: You could learn the spell and now you know that your form would be some kind of predator bird. But apparently somewhere hidden in your heart is a second form. The dragon appeared because he hates this other side of you. Think about your first task: How easily had it been able to enrage the dragon and goad her away? She really hated you; perhaps she sensed that other side of you too."

"But you can only learn on form with the Animagus spell," Hermione countered.

"You're correct, Hermione," Agatha agreed. "But Harry has the rare opportunity to decide. Do you want to master your bird aspect? It should be relative easy for you. Or do you wish to take the chance to learn something special? It would be far more difficult and it is by no means certain that you'll be successful with it."

"And if he doesn't succeed," Daphne asked. "Could he still learn the bird aspect?"

"I don't know," Agatha responded. "I really don't know. It is very unusual to have something like that. I'll have to do some research to answer the question."

.

_Present (Pinegrew Manor - 28__th__ of December)_

.

"Perhaps," Harry slowly started "perhaps you shouldn't press her. I think she likes healing, likes the idea of spending her time as a healer in the future. But you're forcing her too much. Daphne is feeling obliged to choose that carrier and she doesn't like that feeling."

"I understand what you mean," Anne responded. "And if it would be something like her gift for languages I'd follow your advice."

Harry knew what Anne was speaking about. With her sense for the subtleties and her studious and diligent nature it had come easy to Daphne to learn new languages. Which other fourteen year old girl was able to have a conversation in fluent Spanish and to read a complicated book in Ancient Greek?

"But this is not something she can decide later. She has to decide it now, before it is too late, before she has chosen a path that could destroy a unique possibility."

"Daphne," Roxanne continued "inherited a talent my Grandmother already had. Perhaps I should explain what we're speaking about. You certainly know the usual healing spells. Madam Pomfrey is a very experienced Healer and certainly able to attend a broad range of injuries, diseases and curses. But even her talent has limits. Most healers are unable to transfer their gift onto curing unusual patients, may they be Veela, Werewolves, Vampires or even more exotic ones like magical creatures. Those persons and creatures are resistant to many spells or react in a different way, making their treatment exceptional difficult and dangerous. Should Miss Delacour be seriously injured in the tournament, it would be possible that Madam Pomfrey deteriorates the situation instead of healing her."

"And that's the very special talent of Daphne," Anne explained: "Or at least one of it. She could learn to treat those patients because she's able to 'feel' the magic specifications in a way most other Healers never could. Think back: Balou has been wounded. A normal healer would have killed him with his healing spells; his badly injured body would have been unable to survive the needed amount of magic. But Daphne was able to tone down to exactly the correct amount of magical energy and direct it to the exactly right places in his body. It's not a unique talent but at least a rare one, a talent that is regretfully contrary to some other, more primal spells.

"A spell like the Animagus activates your animalistic side, the side that's responsible for your instincts and fast reaction. This side is very strong in you, Harry, the reason that Animagus should come easily to you. But to unearth this side, Daphne would lose her other talent. It's a choice I had to make myself fifteen years ago. I decided against the healing and instead learned how to use my animalistic side. I thought back then that I needed primal spells more. I wanted to be a hero and lost so much. I regret the decision very often since then and hoped to spare Daphne this experience."

The following silence was broken by Daphne's voice, who had silently entered the room unnoticed a while before. "You should have told me."

Anne smiled weakly and nodded: "I should have, you're right. We don't want to force you, Daphne. We only hope that …"

"I understand you. At least I understand you now a lot better." Slowly she walked to the table and hugged Roxanne and Anne before taking a seat at Harry's side. He gently pressed her hand and got a kiss to his cheek in return. "Thank you for asking them."

.

"We didn't tell them about Daphne's other talent."

Roxanne and Anne had left the room, leaving Harry and Daphne with the newly arrived Grangers – parents and daughter – to have a calm breakfast before they left to collect the new wands.

"No, we didn't" Roxanne agreed. "It is better this way. I don't want to force her even more in that direction."

"I understand, but … it is really, really unique. Even in the Congregation we only have less than a handful witches with her talent and according to Spiritualist Nowles she could be exceptional in a few years, a decade at most. We can't allow her to …"

Anne felt herself seized by the collar and forced against the wall. "It is her decision, hers alone. Do you get my meaning? Yes, I would like … no, that's not strong enough … I would love to see her choosing that path, but I'm not Daphne, I'm only her mother. To be a Spiritualist is a difficult path, you know that exactly. To heal a broken mind is never without influence on the healer. We won't force her in any way."

Roxanne accentuated every word of her last sentence and Anne nodded slowly. "Okay, I understand. But shouldn't we at least tell her …"

"… Tell her that she could heal Neville's parents in a few years?" Both missed the gasp coming from the niche where a shadow was hiding since a few minutes. "With that amount of pressure … yes, this information would be a kind of emotional pressure … do you really assume that there could be any other decision for her? You've seen how close she is with her friends. You know how much his parents mean to Neville. Telling her about this would leave her with only a single choice: Become a Spiritualist too, a mind healer."

Anne sighed deeply. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll stay silent about that."

.

_Knockturn Alley – late forenoon_

.

She really liked the time she had been able to spend with her parents, Hermione mused. The hour she had spent reading from the letter Luna had written from Island about her and her father's hunt for some mystical creature – who else would be willing to make such a trip on December? – Or even the evening they had 'that' conversation. Her father had left the issue to his wife – no surprise there. To Hermione's relief her mother had been relaxed about the matter.

Not that there was a matter to be solved in the near future. Like her mother before Hermione had no intention to 'take their relationship to the next level'. She was only fifteen now, Neville fourteen. They would wait at least another two years before anything would happen more than a snogging session, but certainly it was the parents' duty to speak about it early enough. What troubled her much more was the conversation Neville had with her father. He had told him about traditions in a Wizarding family, about promise rings, engagement rings, marriage contracts and all those other things.

How far was she willing to go? Even a promise ring was a huge step to her. It was far more than a simple boyfriend-girlfriend relationship. Neville had promised her that they would take every step together, that he won't drop in with a ring on Valentine day. There wouldn't be a surprise engagement party on his fifteenth birthday. They would progress slowly and with consideration.

.

_Madam Guila – Wands since 1712_

.

Neville had been awful quiet the whole morning. To watch him now discussing with Madam Guila about the best focus stone for his wand was a change for the better. He appeared happy now, fully concentrated on the matter as he was only around plants. Hermione smiled. She had chosen a veiled opal, a rare but – because seldom used in jewelry – not overly expensive stone. Madam Guila claimed that it would help her to cast stronger, longer enduring Charms. Quite the right choice, Hermione hoped, because of her fondness for feather-light charms and similar spells.

"You should use amber, Mister Longbottom. There are other stones more able to simply strengthen the growth of a plant, but you are certainly more interested in controlled growth, to shape the plant and push the evolvement into the right direction for use as a potion ingredient or something similar."

Neville agreed to her opinion, so this left only two wands to go or better two pairs as everyone had chosen to buy the 'lesser twin wand' too. With two holsters – one for the wrist, the other for the calm, both charmed to resist disarming spells – they would be well-equipped for every opportunity.

"I need pure quartz," Daphne stated, looking up from the stone book she had been perusing for the last ten minutes.

"Pure Quartz," Madam Guila asked "better perception?"

Roxanne's expression was a mix of joy and unease as she heard her daughter's choice, a choice that was the right one should she follow the career of a Healer.

With a neutral face Daphne glanced at her mother and curtly nodded. "The book says that it help to get clearer results from examination spells."

"That's correct. It's not a very widely used stone. Most prefer something to get a more tangible effect."

"It's the right one for me."

While Madam Guila attached the stone to Daphne's wand, Roxanne used the moment to ask Harry: "Have you already made a choice … a choice which wand you want to use in the future I mean."

"I have. The old wand … Madam Guila said it has more raw power. But it is the twin of 'His' wand, too. I'll keep it; perhaps I'll have use for it at a later time. But for now I'll try the new one. Most of the time it's simply more important to be correct and precise in the casting."

"I agree. And which kind of stone do you want? Madam Guila told me that the ruby is especially strong in supporting attacks. Perhaps it would be the right choice because you'll lose that extra bit of power from your old wand."

Harry smiled at his godmother, but shook his head. "A few months ago I would have agreed. I always assumed that action was better than waiting, attack better than defense. But now … I have something to protect, a family … friends." He glanced towards Daphne and a soft smile appeared on his face. "I want something to strengthen Protego spells, a raw diamond."

An immense wave of happiness crashed through Roxanne's body. That Harry had started to learn to control his temper, to see reason about 'think first, act later' and his clear opinion that his new family – and certainly his girlfriend, her daughter – was something worth to be defended, was reason enough for her broadest smile. "Thank you, Harry, for the choice and the thought."

.

_Pinegrew Manor – Evening_

.

"And now," Daphne asked. "What shall we do now?" The mood was very downtrodden after their return from Gringotts. Everyone slumped into a chair or onto a bench, unable to hide their disappointment.

Harry shrugged, far calmer than an hour ago. The message that Griphook wasn't able to explain his former way of working had been disturbing, especially the reason for this serious development. At Gringotts, where they had gone hoping for more background information, Wyvernclaw could only disappoint them.

"_We examined the documents and now are able to offer you a list of transactions that can be reversed, those that can be pursued with a reasonable chance to get your money back and – regretfully – a large number of deals you should, in my humble opinion, simply write off. We have enough material to prosecute Mister Fletcher for embezzlement, if you wish. The chances are very good to get a conviction, but he hasn't the money to pay for his debts. It is your decision if you want to charge him for punishment nonetheless._

"_But to our dismay an interrogation of Accountant Griphook showed, that he was unable to reveal his cooperation with other persons, especially Headmaster Dumbledore as we had hoped. In the time since your last visit someone obviously used the opportunity to alter his memory. There are no memories left that would prove cooperation between him and the Headmaster, nothing irregular enough to charge the Headmaster for embezzlement."_

"Dumbledore is unable to get more money from my family's vaults. He has no control about the Lily Evans Trust and Potter Manor is protected against visits from him or any other Order member. That's the most important part," Harry stated calmly, only his eyes betraying his fury – not because of the former betrayal but because the Headmaster obviously not even shied away from altering the memory of a Gringotts accountant. "He'll be a 'persona non grata' at Gringotts in the future. Even with not enough proof against him to act officially, he'll certainly notice a decline in the Goblins eagerness to make business with him. And in a way this development is even helpful."

"Helpful," Hermione groaned "how can it be helpful."

The news had hit her especially hard. Even after the last week she had still hoped that there would be an explanation for all of this, had still hoped that the reverence she had felt for the Headmaster in the past hadn't been totally misguided. But Roxanne had been right about being more careful, less trusting towards respectabilities.

"_I've left Harry alone, Hermione. I've left him with his Aunt because I trusted Dumbledore's judgment more than my own gut feeling. I allowed him to put Harry's parents in that hidden house, because he told me that they would be secure. I should have followed my own mind, trusted my own feelings. I regret my decisions every day and I'm thankful that at least regarding Harry I'm able to smooth out my former errors. I'll be more careful in the future and you should too."_

"Now we know," Daphne responded in Harry's stead "that we have to be especially careful around the Headmaster. We'll intensify our Occlumency training and we'll never allow one of us to be alone with him. Something like this won't happen to one of us."

.

"Do you have an idea where to begin with your research?"

The teenagers had left for their rooms and only Roxanne, Agatha and Anne remained behind. Anne sighed: "I'll ask some curse-breakers I know – Spanish and French ones, not English. I don't know which ones I could trust to stay silent about the matter. Certainly a few of the better Curse-breakers here owe allegiance to Dumbledore or the Ministry."

"And you have no idea what it could be?" Roxanne whispered. She had been able to repress the troubling information for a while but the puzzle had to be solved somehow.

"Regretfully not really," Anne responded. "It is a mix of a mind spell, a curse and a fragment of dark magic – the whole mix seated in his head behind that scar. It's reasonable to assume that it is a result of the killing curse used against him, but with nobody ever surviving that spell beside him, we have nothing to compare."

"Shouldn't someone have detected it before? Madam Pomfrey perhaps – Harry had certainly been in her care often enough."

Anne shook her head. "I don't think so. You would have to use something like we did, search for mind spells or curses. And even if … don't forget how she admitted that she overlooked the signs of abuse on Dumbledore's command. Perhaps she detected it but only told the Headmaster."

"I would be surprised if he has no idea about it. I assume he has known for a very long time. But that's not helpful no. Let's hope that you'll return with more knowledge about this phenomenon."

.

_**A/N**_

_Yes, the Pinegrew ladies know – since the examination a few days ago – about the existence of 'something' in Harry's head. They still don't know that it's a Horcrux._


	29. Chapter 29 A week to relax

**A week to relax**

.

_Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office – 30th of December_

.

_Why had women always to be so difficult?_

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore – Headmaster of Hogwarts, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, most powerful wizard of his time and Alchemist nearly without peer (and in a few years, after the death of Nicolas Flamel, completely without peer) – was in a bad mood.

_Why had women to make every situation so difficult?_

It had been more difficult than needed just from the beginning. James Potter had been willing to help. He had never been that brilliant as a strategist, never been able to grasp the whole picture of fate, but he had recognized how important it was to help the Order and Dumbledore, its leader. Because of this he had allowed him to use Potter Manor as the Order's HQ, allowed him access to his wealth and was willing to trust every decision Dumbledore had made.

But Lily Potter née Evans had complicated the matter just from the start. She convinced her husband to integrate some security measures and shielded her own wealth completely from him. For the last decade he had only been able to trickle away a part of the Potter wealth to support the Order's crusade. With most members being poor it had been especially cumbersome to finance the war, to prepare for the next. Spies had to be paid, safe houses to be supported, families like the Weasley to be aided.

With Accountant Griphook's help he had barely been able to gather the money for all of this. Griphook had been the perfect Goblin for him in that position: Struggling to get his father's rank back, desperate to find new customers to raise his own status – it had been easy to convince him. After their small and secret agreement Dumbledore had sent a number of Muggleborn families his way, new Gringott's customers, new to the magical world and happy to follow the advice of the Headmaster. Mostly small clients, unimportant clients, but the sheer number had helped Griphook and he had been happy to return the favor, showing the Headmaster the legal loopholes to get as much money as possible without stirring trouble, without causing suspicion.

_Why had women to turn every comfortable agreement into a nightmare? _

Enter the dragon – in this case: Enter the Pinegrew ladies. Roxanne and Agatha Pinegrew not only destroyed a large number of his plans for Harry and had been quite successful in denying him any influence on the boy with the adoption. No, they even dared to examine the Potter wealth and to close off any access he formerly had. According to Mundungus they re-transferred a large amount of money that had belonged to the Potter wealth and started to examine some of the sales of goods from Potter Manor. Some of them had been fake deals, sales of goods he in reality had wanted for his own collection.

And the whole time the Damocles sword of Griphook's testimony was dangling above his head, his testimony about the Headmaster's part in all these business deals. Merlin, he was the leader of the light. It was disgusting that these actions had forced him to use mind altering spells on the cowardly Goblin. But he had to secure his position. He couldn't allow some wild accusations to besmirch his reputation.

Roxanne Pinegrew was to blame. She had forced his hand in this matter.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore groaned:

_Why had women always to be so difficult?_

.

_Pinegrew Manor - 30th of December_

_._

Only a few days were left until they had to return to Hogwarts. Harry stared in his cup of coffee. He was in no hurry to leave Pinegrew Manor; he really liked the house, the people and the atmosphere. All three women had been fabulous teachers, each of them strong in their own specialty but with a broad knowledge of other things too.

Anne had used the days to test and train their Occlumency skills and now spend a few hours each day terrorizing Daphne with Legilimency. Was he a bad boy that he liked to notice her struggle with something? That he had been relieved to see her having troubles to learn something new with all else coming so easy to her? It had been interesting to watch them, especially when Anne trained both of them – Harry and Daphne – in the use of the Rapport spell.

.

"_It's a family spell so in a way it's a secret you are not allowed to share. You may use it in cooperation with trustworthy persons like Hermione and Neville, Sirius or Remus. But please be careful who is able to watch you doing this. To start the training I have to imprint a layout into your nerves. It will enable your brain to handle a special kind of sensory input. I'll show you how to do this later in your training. It is nothing especially dangerous or difficult – if done right. I simply activate a number of neural pathways that your brain neglected so far. From then on you'll be able to connect mentally, to share information in words and pictures._

"_This technique is related to Legilimency, but Daphne has to concentrate on something to show it to Harry and vice versa. It is not used to really read the mind. It is especially useful if you want to have a silent conversation and to enhance the speed of the exchange. In the beginning you'll need skin contact and the exchange will only be about twice to thrice as fast as the spoken word. But later you'll learn to have these conversations at a distance and much faster. You'll even learn to integrate a small number of other persons as passive participants." With a small smile she added: "Let's begin."_

.

Anne had praised his talent for this special spell, expressed her guess that he would be talented at Legilimency too – in contrary to Occlumency where he always was struggling to improve his shields, to avoid breaking them down involuntarily in a fit of emotions. Harry had breathed his wish to learn Legilimency, but Anne had denied it: "You have far too much on your plate for the next months. Leave this to Daphne for now. I assure you that I'll teach you as soon as possible: Legilimency and much more … after your fifteenth birthday."

She hadn't explained that last statement and Daphne stayed silent about it too. So he only could sigh and wait.

As promised they had learned quite fast to have these silent conversations and while Harry liked their evening hours, holding hands with Daphne and exchanging all kind of wild ideas and dreams, they hoped to be able to extend the distance in the near future. And how would it be to have a 'discussion group' with Hermione and Neville too?

While Hermione and Daphne liked the lessons with Agatha and Roxanne very much, to learn new transfiguration and charm spells, he loved the hours with Sirius and Remus the most. Two extremely experienced trainers, four pupils, endless hours of sweat and pain while they dueled each other. They all made large steps in those training sessions and although they kept their strengths and weaknesses in a way, Sirius and Remus were able to help them enhancing their fortes and diluting their foibles.

Harry was the fastest and most powerful of the group by far; and slowly he gained in accuracy too. Hermione – surprise, surprise – knew the broadest repertoire of spells. That she had started to only whisper the incantations only aggravated the situation. He never knew what she hurled at him the next. And Daphne – she was nearly as aching as her mother. Deadly accurate with her spells she forced Harry to use the Protego far more often than every other training adversary, anticipating his every move in advance. He shuddered shortly as he thought about meeting her on the Quidditch field, armed with bludger and beater club. Harry still won two out of three fights against her, but his losses were always painful.

At the very beginning of their training Daphne had shown how intensive she had watched the Champions at the first task. Not only had she used the weeks since then to learn the Conjunctivitis – the spell Viktor Krum had successfully used on his dragon – but had already changed it a bit, allowing her to cast a weaker but faster version, using a smaller amount of energy. And she really liked to change other spells too, often using a slightly altered wand motion to hide her intent. He hoped they would find a room at Hogwarts to continue their training. Especially as only now Neville had started to show some progress – thanks to Daphne's eagerness to pull his leg.

.

_They had just watched Sirius and Remus double teaming against Agatha and Roxanne. His godfather and his former DADA teacher got their asses properly kicked by the ladies to everyone's amusement. Naturally they had defended their defeat with prattle about gentlemanlike behavior and 'let the ladies win'. But Harry had seen the reason, the real reason. The ladies weren't faster or stronger than the guys, but they worked awesome as a team. Without a word they knew what their team member had in mind and without hesitation used every opening. A quick look, a short nod and he and Daphne promised each other silently to follow this example._

"_I'm not fragile," Daphne moaned. Harry smiled, still concentration on Hermione who was dueling him under Sirius supervision while Remus tried his best to push Neville into a more aggressive stance. He was still too reluctant, too careful in his casting. With his new wand he was already far better than before and Harry was eager to see the change after the ritual. But Neville didn't want to hurt anyone. Every time he hesitated a moment before sending a stinging hex at Daphne, always his spells were accompanied by his expression of regret._

_Shortly glancing in Daphne's direction Harry saw something troubling, a wicked grin, a hint of danger and mischief in her eyes. Nearly too late he sidestepped Hermione's next attack. Looking up a bit angrily at himself Harry watched flabbergasted how a stinging hex hit Hermione in the back._

"_Sorry, missed target."_

_Wide-eyed Harry watched them, pondering why Daphne …_

"_Sorry, missed target." Another hex hit Hermione. _

"_Stop it," Neville growled, for the first time showing an angry emotion._

"_Make me," Daphne smiled, sending another spell at Hermione who was at least sidestepping it, but not even raised her own wand._

_Dodging Neville's halfhearted try to disarm her, Daphne sent two new spells at Hermione, low powered but nonetheless painful and deadly accurate._

"_STOP IT."_

"_I don't feel like it." Daphne showed her sweetest smile and Harry only wished he could embrace her and snog her silly for this stupid act._

"_STOP … IT … THIS …"_

_Every word accompanied by a step forward and another spell, each cast stronger, his third spell hit Daphne and pushed her against the wall. She slid down to the ground, Neville watching her shocked by his own reaction. _

"_So … sorry."_

"_Yeah, I'm sorry too, that you needed so long to cast properly." Daphne grinned and touched her face carefully. "Ouch! Hermione? Could you …" She pointed towards her broken nose._

_Paling Neville stared at her, then at Harry, confused that both where only grinning. _

"_Episkey." A fast stinging hex followed the healing spell. "Sorry, missed target."_

.

Neville was still not as aggressive as Daphne – none of them was in reality – but he had improved and with a few more training sessions he wouldn't be anymore the laughing stock many Slytherins thought him to be. Even his housemates would be surprised to notice the difference, Harry anticipated.

.

"You haven't told your parents about the poisoning?" Daphne asked in a whisper.

"No," Hermione shook her head determinedly. "They know nothing about it, nothing about the dangers of the last years. They wouldn't understand. Dad would instantly pull me out of Hogwarts."

Daphne nodded thoughtfully. "Perhaps it would be better." Noticing Hermione's glare she explained, soothing her friend with her next words again: "Homeschooling. With Sirius, Remus, Mum and Grandma it would be possible for us to stay away from Hogwarts. The education wouldn't be worse but far safer."

Hermione watched her with a frown: "Do you assume this to be likely?"

"No," Daphne responded with another sigh. With a weak smile she continued: "Harry is too strong-headed for that. But … this year is terrible." The black-haired beauty suddenly looked very tired and distressed. Hermione hadn't seen her like this before. Daphne was always so composed, so steady and reassuring. "The poisoning, the attack on me and the struggles with the Weasley – it's all grating on my nerves. It hurts him that so many believe him to be a cheater, even among his supposed friends. Ron's betrayal hit him especially hard. He tries not to show, but he's hurting. I don't want to see him like this anymore ... in pain."

Hermione nodded slowly. She had noticed that too, realized how much Harry tried to hide – again. That Daphne had seen this too was only proof how close Harry and she had become in the last months. "And" Daphne's voice was only a weak whisper now "someone is out to kill him within this tournament, I'm sure about that – and we can't help him, Hermione, we won't be there at the tasks. What if …"

Her eyes filled with tears she looked at her bushy-haired friend, pleading silently for support. "We'll help him as good as possible, Daphne. We'll train with him, prepare him and find solutions. We'll solve that damned egg puzzle and kick his lazy ass into the library to prepare properly. We'll be there, Daphne, we'll be there." _A snake caring for a lion; a lioness hugging a snake – how much all had changed_.

.

Sitting at the dinner table they had spoken about the future. The return to Hogwarts wasn't far away and with that Remus and Sirius would leave too. After some grumbling Sirius had caved in and would follow Harry's invitation to live at Potter Manor together with Remus. While Remus – still working on the library and waiting for Bill Weasley's return – would stay at the main house, Harry had offered Sirius the guest house in the adjacent garden. Remus would protect the house with a Fidelius Charm and be the secret keeper for him. Harry thought this to be the best solution, not wanting to have Sirius stay in the wilderness again or living like a prisoner at Black Manor.

Black Manor – that had been an equally difficult issue.

"I don't want it anymore," Sirius uttered. "I've too many bad memories about that place. Even with Remus' alterations it is still an evil, moody house, only bringing bad dreams to me."

Harry could only try to imagine how Sirius' childhood must have been that he was so eager to get lost of his family's home. But with Walburga shrieking-voice Black as his mother what else could be expected? For a moment he smiled. Harry had never been there, but Remus had told him about the house, about Walburga and especially about the picture. They wanted to get lost of it, something that apparently was difficult because of a permanent sticking charm, a charm cast by the house elf Kreacher.

Remus and Sirius had asked him. They had been happy with his solution: If you can't remove the picture, then remove the wall. Sirius had been delighted with the imagination to remove a six by six feet part of the wall, the work perhaps even done personally with a pickax. It would be a kind of personal relief, a reprocessing of the past.

Naturally Daphne had found a more Slytherin solution:

"_Tell Kreacher that you intend to destroy the picture. Tell him that he has a last chance to rescue it by removing it from the wall. Tell him that he may keep the picture in his own room."_

The solution had been one to rescue the picture – as Daphne didn't like the idea to destroy a piece of art – and on behalf of Kreacher who still adored his former mistress. No wonder that Hermione supported the idea.

Sirius was still thinking, undecided.

"You could lend it to the Order," Remus suggested. "The Order, not Dumbledore," he explained as he noticed the glares of everyone.

Sighs and nods greeted this. "The Order is still important," Agatha agreed. "An important ally it is at least, even if I don't trust every member of it. Now even less after what we learned about Mundungus' part in all of this. And Alastor Moody has always been too eager with the permanent solutions. But there are others."

"But wouldn't it be the same … the Order and the Headmaster," Hermione asked.

"No," Harry answered calmly. "Not if Sirius gives the house to Professor McGonagall."

Daphne agreed: "She changed. She's standing up now against his wishes. She'll use the house with consideration."

"Would you ask her," Sirius begged Agatha. "Ask her in my name … explain about Dumbledore, why I don't wish …"

"I'll speak with her."

.

_Pinegrew Manor – 31__st__ of December_

.

Silently Harry watched the exchange between Daphne and Anne. It was something about making her charms more enduring, stronger imbedded into the fabric of the enchanted object. He knew that somehow Daphne was already able to cast her charms in a very special way, making them hard to dispel and difficult to detect. Finest wrought magical lines encircled those objects, anchoring the spell and smudging the line between object and magic. Even Hermione had been impressed.

Anne was in her element again. She explained some finer points of this type of magic to Daphne, things that were far beyond that point in the magical theory until where Harry was able and willing to follow their conversation. It had been far more interesting to hear about Anne's education an hour ago. In her family it was still practice to get a very classical education like it had been usual centuries ago. Not only were Latin and Ancient Greek quite normal to learn for them, but also belonged lessons in Medicine, Religion, Philosophy and Law to her curriculum. Humanistic education they called it. And that had only been the beginning. How would it be to be raised like this? Loved, cared for and trained to be great?

"Harry?"

Harry snapped out of his day-dreaming. Anne and Daphne were watching him, Daphne with a small smile, Anne with a frown. How often had she addressed him before he reacted?

"It's time for something new," Anne started. "As promised I wanted to train you in something regarding your emotions – the other side of the coin so to say. You certainly know that spells often depend on your state of mind. Many younger wizards unwittingly enhance their spells with anger. Daphne showed this quite well with Neville. But you may use this kind of power with intention too and it hasn't to be anger. Quite to the contrary it's better to use another emotion, something more positive and more controllable."

Harry groaned. "Please don't start with the power of love now."

Daphne looked a bit disappointed and Harry hastily added: "I know it's powerful but I really had heard enough about it. My mother …"

Anne raised her hand to stop him. "I don't mean that. What your mother did – as far as we know – is something completely different and very unique. And love is far too complex to channel it properly. Emotional channeling uses the power of simple but strong feeling. Anger – the emotion to destroy. Care – the emotion to protect. Two sides of the same power. You will learn how to use it to empower your spells. It is a very draining ability, which you shouldn't use lightly. It is something neither Daphne nor Hermione will learn – Daphne because of her sensibility, Hermione because of her self-control. But I'll teach you and later – when his magic has steadied again – Neville will learn too. Daphne's magic is like the finest branching; your magic is more like a crushing wave – a wave we'll stride to make more powerful now.

"You know that emotions are important: You need the wish to hurt for a Cruciatus, a feeling of hope and joy for a Patronus and a sense of amusement to banish a Boggart with a Ridiculus. It's a bit of a contradiction: You have to release emotion in a controlled, directed way. Prerequisite is the intimate knowledge of the used spell and the ability to concentrate on the emotion. The knowledge is important because you don't concentrate on the spell, the wand waving and the incantation – that has to be second nature – but you focus on your target and your wish.

"First: A bit of practice."

The next hour they spend on casting Protego spells, first to shield himself, then to protect Daphne from Anne's hexes. She was a stern teacher with eagle's eyes, noticing the smallest flaws in incantation and gesture. But he improved: Never before had he been able to cast the spell so fast, accurate and effortless. Harry felt better now, safe in the knowledge that he could protect her. This lasted until Anne started to throw more powerful spells. Fast they reached the limits of his spells. Each hex destroyed another one of his Protegos and slowly Harry feared for Daphne's welfare.

What if they shattered without fully stopping the attack? Anne wasn't really holding back now, trusting his abilities. This was a new experience too: An adult willing to trust his abilities as a wizard. She didn't treat him with gloves, not like a child, but more like a warrior. He liked this very much.

"Good," Anne stopped her attacks. It was awesome to watch her throwing this endless number of powerful spells towards Daphne, not a single bead of sweat on her brow. He shuddered, pondering about how he – or even Sirius or Remus – would fare in a duel against her. Not for the first time he wondered about her real occupation. Cultural Attaché – wasn't that a synonym for all kind of secret services in the Muggle Literature? Why had she been at the Delacour Ball? Socializing? He didn't really assume so.

"And now to the second part: The emotion. Think about the result, should my spells hit Daphne."

A wordless stinging hex left her wand and even his seeker reflexes weren't fast enough to protect Daphne. A shriek of pain, a glowering stare – Daphne wasn't amused, the spell completely able to prove the result of failure.

"Concentrate on your wish to protect her. Try to imagine your arms, your body shielding her from any harm. Your body spends warmth against the coldness of the world. Imagine!"

A new hex left Anne's wand, flew towards Daphne. Harry didn't really see it; his hands didn't wait for the command but moved nonetheless, the words left his mouth. In his mind he only saw her, his body intercepting the attack. There was warmth in him, but it was comfortable warmth, not the boiling heat of rage. Easily his shield deflected the spell like the following ones. Feeling his spells he somehow knew when his shield was starting to fail, allowing him to recast it in time. From casting to casting his shields grow stronger. From barely visible they changed to a blazing gold, resembling the very real metallic shield of a Spartan soldier.

The reverberating noises of powerful spells smashing against an obstacle brought him back to the present. Anne stopped her attacks as Harry's shield faded away. Beads of sweat were now clearly visible on her face, but she grinned broadly. Daphne looked very pale, knowing full well what would have happened in the case of Harry's failure. But after a second she flew into his arms, allowing the former imagination to get real.

"Good," Anne praised. "You've done really well, Harry."

Without another word she slipped away, leaving Harry and Daphne behind, alone with their thoughts.

.

_Delacour Manor – 31__st__ of December_

.

_When had his sister been like this the last time_, Charlie pondered.

While Fleur was helping her mother with the last preparations for the New Year's Ball, he had agreed to occupy her little sister. Gabrielle Delacour was a cute, intelligent and extremely sharp girl of ten years. Outwardly a younger copy of her older sister, she was much more vivid, less controlled in her emotions and behavior.

When Charlie mentioned how close Harry Potter was to his family, she had been excited. Gabrielle was willing and fully able to listen endless hours to the stories about the adventures of the Golden Trio.

For a moment a deep sadness gripped his heart. There wouldn't be any new stories about the Golden Trio. There wasn't a Golden Trio anymore, the friendship broken between Ron, Harry and Hermione. A friendship that perhaps never existed in the assumed way: Ron had hinted at the fact that Molly had pushed him into this friendship, wanted him to be Harry's best mate like she always saw Ginny as Harry's girlfriend.

Charlie had left the house of his parents, practically escaped to Fleur, because he didn't want to speak about Molly's plans anymore. He only hoped that Ginny, his favorite sister, his little darling, would be able to cope with her mother.

Charlie had to force a smile as he looked at Gabrielle. She would be there at Hogwarts in a few weeks, watching her sister at the second task. How would Ginny fare until then? He could only hope for the best.


	30. Chapter 30 Realignment

**Realignment**

.

_King's Cross Station – 8th of January morning_

.

As usual platform 9 ¾ was overcrowded with students and their families. The parting after Christmas was always especially tough to everyone. The thought to part after the most important family celebration of the year and not to see each other for more than five months – as only a few used the Easter Break to go home – dampened the mood, the happiness to see old friends again.

Dean and Seamus greeted friendly, only hesitating for a moment before they extended the greeting to Daphne too. The other Gryffindors – while more reluctant to speak with them – at least nodded in their direction and seemed ready to accept the weird friendship with the snake. The Slytherins on the other hand mostly shared a hateful glare, even more directed towards 'the betrayer' Daphne than towards him. Harry hoped that there wouldn't be any more attacks on her.

The attack: He had to do something about it. Daphne had urged him to promise that he wouldn't attack Nott, that he would leave the issue to Professor Snape. Grudgingly he had agreed without much enthusiasm. But attacking and pranking was quite a different matter, wasn't it? He would speak with the twins about the matter, he decided. Harry was certain that telling them about the coward attack would stir their wraith. Together they would certainly find some interesting ways to get back at the blasted coward. Affectionately Harry patted Balou. Since he had heard about him viciously defending Daphne, he loved him only the more.

"Hi Daphne – long time no see," the greeting was backed up by an open smile of Millie and a more reluctant one on Pansy's side. The smaller girl curtly nodded towards Hermione and Neville, before she hurried away, Millie following her with an apologizing smile. "See you later, Daphne."

"Cyrus, nice to see you."

Roxanne's tone told everyone how much she liked to see him, his escort party mostly unsuited to lift her mood. Narcissa hugged her shortly – the women exchanging some whispers under the scrutinizing looks of their husbands – while Lucius was barely able to nod half-decently. Draco only glared, his stare trying to melt Harry and his expression towards Hermione and Neville not much friendlier.

Astoria was the only one from the group who seemed to really enjoy the moment. She spoke shortly with her sister, before she even hugged Harry, baffling everyone around. "Welcome to the family." While this was enough to darken Draco's look for another grade, Astoria leaned towards Harry's ear and whispered something. Whatever it was, it caused him to pale visibly. Harry waited until the group had walked away before he answered the quizzical stares of his friends.

"She told me about the consequences should I hurt you or Mother." Under the good-natured laugh of his friends Harry pondered about something Astoria had said and winced, leaving it to everyone's imagination which part of the body the threats encompassed.

.

_You want to use a single word to describe the meeting with the Weasleys? It would be 'disagreed'_, Harry mused in a failing attempt of humor.

"Hello Harry," someone greeted. Harry assumed it to be George because his brother deeply bowed towards Daphne, his kiss on the hand causing her to giggle: "Milady."

Hastily Harry evaded the Weasley hug. Merlin, did she really except him to endure such a gesture after what had happened? With a look of disappointment Molly Weasley stepped back a bit and started to bumble about Christmas, how much they had missed him – never did she mention Hermione who only received a short glare – how much she hoped that he would visit them again in the summer break. "It had always been so nice … blah-blah-blah … and I always saw you like a son … blah-blah-blah."

Struggling to blank her out Harry concentrated on Arthur. He was a bit too reluctant, a bit too polite but at least able to address Roxanne and Agatha. "Senorita Hernandez," he greeted Anne, leaving Harry with the question how he did know the Spanish lady. Ginny and Ron were standing at the rear of the group, Ginny nearly unable to look in the direction of Harry and his friends while Ron did his best to compensate this with his glare full of blazing anger.

What surprised Ron apparently – certainly not more than Harry – was how fearsome Neville reciprocated the glare. When Ron dared to grimace in Hermione's direction, Neville grimaced back, baring his teeth for a moment and growling a bit. Shocked by this Ron hastily walked away, his family following a few moments later.

How much had Neville changed in the past two weeks, Harry mused. How much had the Ritual changed him?

.

_Pinegrew Manor – shortly before New Year's Midnight_

.

"You may watch the Ritual, Harry, but not Remus and Sirius," Roxanne had declined his wish. "They don't belong to the family. It's a Ritual of the Congregation and it's our duty to keep it secret. We'll even hide the composition of the Ritual's ingredients from Neville, Hermione and Augusta."

"But why are Hermione and Augusta allowed? And what's the Congregation? You mentioned it already sometimes."

"You'll see at the Ritual, Harry. Hermione and Augusta are very important parts of it. About the Congregation we'll speak later, Harry. You'll have to learn about it before your fifteenth birthday, but Agatha and I decided that it would simply be too much in the moment. For now you have simply to know that it is a group of mostly witches and that Agatha, Anne and I are part of it and Daphne will be after the summer. But now back to the Ritual: You may watch, but you have to be completely silent. No word, no gasp … nothing. Are you able to do this?"

Harry stared at her. According to Anne this Ritual was really important to Neville. It would allow him to be the wizard he should have been from the start. He really didn't want to mess this up and Harry knew how possible some kind of reaction on his part was. "Could you … could you cast a Silencio on me?" Roxanne smiled softly and agreed.

.

They entered the room: Anne at the lead, followed by Agatha, Augusta, Neville, Hermione, Roxanne and Daphne at the rear. Harry closed the door behind them, sensing the magic that bound the door. Only Agatha, Anne or Roxanne would be able to open it again. Looking around Harry noticed the content of the unknown room under the roof of the manor. For a moment he thought that it had a glass roof, but then he realized that it was simply open, a magical barrier protecting against the winter chill. Stars sparkled above him – the only illumination besides a number of candles at the walls and surrounding the slate of blue granite in the center in the form of a cross.

With no seat visible Harry waited near the door, not daring to enter further, should he disturb anything with his reactions. Silently Anne gestured Neville to take his place, while Roxanne took a number of herb bundles from the sole other fitment of the room, a table.

A bit hesitantly Neville took of the robe he was wearing; revealing that he only wore a loincloth below. Harry smiled. He would have problems too with this, would be self-conscious with six women around. One was his grandmother, one his girlfriend, the other four beautiful women. They wore silk robes too, each one in a different color and with different runes on them – but nothing else. The bare feet and ankles were quite visible, drawing Harry's stare more than once to Daphne. And the curves of the women were well enough visible to tell him that nothing else was between silk and skin now.

At least they weren't nude, Harry trembled. He had read about that in some books and he wasn't sure how he would fare with that sight.

In between Roxanne had handed out the herb bundles and the six women took positions around Neville. Anne, Agatha, Roxanne and Daphne were standing like a cross around him – Harry assumed that they symbolized the four directions of the sky – while Augusta was at Neville's left, Hermione at his right.

The four ladies started to sing something. He didn't understand a word, only assumed that it was some kind of Celtic language because some words sounded familiar to a Gaelic song he knew. The melody was calming and did much to sooth Neville's mind. _If this all was strange and opaque to me_, Harry mused, _how has it to affect him_?

The smell of the burning herbs filled the room. It was quite pleasant, but Harry felt a bit light-headed after a while. Watching Neville laying there with outstretched arms and legs, unprotected from the looks of the ladies around. No, he didn't want to switch position with him. But he would like to have Daphne looking at him as Hermione did now with Neville. She sent him all her love and reassurance, all her best wishes that this would go smoothly. And Augusta saw this too. Shortly she smiled towards Hermione, before she concentrated on the Ritual again.

The song ended and Daphne – _why she?_ Harry pondered – distributed brushes and small paint pots to everyone around.

"I'm Augusta Longbottom," suddenly a deep voice thundered through the room. "I'm your past. I send you to your future." She inscribed some runes on Neville's stomach and shortly the signs flared up.

"I'm Ana Hernandez," a second voice announced. "I'm the Fire. I'll spur your emotions and empower your flame of life."

"I'm Agatha Pinegrew," a third voice followed. "I'm the Earth. I'll provide you with the ground to grow up and the surface to rest steadily upon."

"I'm Roxanne Greengrass. I'm the Water. I'll heal you in the time of need; I'll refresh you in the hour of thirst."

"I'm Daphne Greengrass." Harry heard the slightest of trembles in her voice. It was her first Ritual, she had told him before. "I'm the Air. I'll let your imagination fly and allow your ideas to grow unhindered."

Each announcement was followed by some signs inscribed on his feet and arms, ending with Daphne 'improving' Neville's head.

"I'm Hermione Granger." Harry had no idea how Hermione was able to steady her voice. Her face showed everyone how much this Ritual, this moment was moving her. "I'm your future. I accept you from your past." Her sign was set over his heart and she clasped hands with Augusta, setting their hands together on his chest, while the others started a new song.

Three times they followed the cycle and the night was well advanced when they left their positions at last. Neville was still on the slate of granite and Harry realized that sometime the boy had fallen asleep. They left the room, closed the door. Only then did Roxanne answer to his questioning look and lifted the Silencio spell. "He has to spend the rest of the night in there. Hermione and Augusta will fetch him in the morning."

"But all went well, yes?"

Roxanne looked at Anne and the Spanish lady nodded exhausted. "Yes, all went well."

.

_Present_

.

"You have changed."

Since Luna entered their compartment, she had stared at him. Slowly she had made him nervous as Harry had no idea what she was seeing. And that she sensed something was out of the question. The time he believed her only to be a little weird was long gone. Even Hermione was willing to accept now that Luna Lovegood was a very special case.

_Perhaps she has a very special gift, something like Daphne_, he wondered. _Perhaps it is changing her too_.

"I have a new name, Luna. Officially I'm now Harry Potter-Pinegrew. But not to confuse everyone I'll stay with Harry Potter for a while."

"Not that, silly," Luna smiled. "Something else changed. You're inner balance is far better now. Your emotions are less restricted, less struggling to overwhelm you. And there are far less Wrackspurts around your head."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's good," Daphne answered instead. "Really Harry, you should read your own newspaper more often."

The statement was surprising enough to catch even Luna off-guard. She was excited to hear about Harry's family share of the Quibbler. "See? I always meant that you have an open mind. It's something you inherited from your parents." She smiled in open joy and for a moment Harry felt bad that he ever had listened to some of the stupid comments about her.

"You know, Harry," Hermione started, her eyes fixed on Luna. "With all those brainless articles about you in the Daily Prophet, why don't you give Luna a chance to make an interview for the Quibbler? Perhaps Colin could make a few photos. And we could ask Cedric, Viktor and Fleur, perhaps they're willing to speak with her too. Not the usual phantasmagoria. No, she'll write about the real Harry."

Harry had frowned at the start, but now his face was thoughtful. Anxiously Luna awaited the answer when Harry asked: "What do you think about this idea, Daphne?"

Daphne hugged Luna shortly before she grinned back: "It's Hermione's idea. And it is about the Quibbler. Naturally it's fantastic. But I leave it to you to say yes, sweetheart."

She fluttered her eyelashes in an exaggerated way. Luna smile nearly split her face, Hermione sniggered and Neville only shrugged: "No escape, Harry-boy."

.

The opening of the door and the sight of the new arrival was greeted by an angry hiss. Balou had so far slept most of the time in Daphne's lap, even ignoring the presence of Crookshanks who had been begging Hermione for some treats for the last hour. They were nearing Hogwarts now, nearly time to change into their robes.

Ginny was standing there very downcast, nearly unable to look Harry in the eye. The compartment was – aside from Balou's hissing – completely silent. Neville was the most relaxed of the four friends, his stare nothing in comparison to the glares of Harry and Daphne. Even Hermione's expression seemed to ask 'what do you want', unwilling to speak with her former friend.

Ginny tried to speak several times, but only hiccups left her throat. Her face showed the time she had spent crying before coming here and after a few very long and uneasy minutes she shook her head in defeat and started to run away. Only Luna's sudden grip prevented her flight. The blond girl struggled to pull her childhood friend into the compartment, but was too weak. Hermione, Daphne and Harry watched the whole spectacle with frowns until at least Neville reacted to Luna's pleading look. He put his arm around Ginny's waist and pulled her onto the empty seat at his side.

With a sigh Luna closed the door and locked it with a little charm, preventing any further attempt to escape. "Speak," she ordered.

Pale Ginny stared at her, her hiccup only intensifying. Startled she sank into her seat as Daphne pulled her wand out. Only grunting shortly in her direction, Daphne cast a Silencio spell on the door. "Speak," she repeated a bit less angry. The fear of the girl was too palpable now to shout at her.

Ginny stared wide-eyed at Daphne, her pale face telling about a possible fainting. She opened and closed her mouth like a fish, but no word left her throat. With a deep sigh Daphne put her wand away and stepped forward, gesturing Neville to switch places with her, while she seated herself next to Ginny. Not too forceful she grabbed her hand, pressed it a bit and tried to calm her own face, to suppress the anger and to show reassurance.

"It's okay, Ginny. In the moment we don't really like you. But we don't hate you." A hiss from Balou followed. "Okay, most of us don't hate really you."

This brought the smallest of smiles on Ginny's face.

"We won't hurt you. But perhaps you should refrain from giving Balou any treats in the near future – if you like your hands without scratches."

A new smile, a weak nod, her voice was only a trembling whisper at the start. "I'm sorry."

Harry showed only a blank face, not willing to accept her apology so fast. Hermione seemed to share his opinion and waited for more. Only Neville was oddly more interested in Daphne in the moment. Thoughtful he watched her, watched how she handled the issue.

"Go on," Daphne nudged her gently.

"I was a prat."

"Yes you …" Harry stopped as someone kicked his shin. None of his friends looked in his direction so he didn't know who the culprit had been.

"I understand that you don't want to be my friend anymore. And I understand that you won't trust me around Balou anymore. I only wanted to tell you, that I'll never do something like this again. I was so angry at that moment. I … I only ever wanted to be your girlfriend, dreamed about it since reading those stupid books about the boy-who-lived."

"That's not who I am, Ginny. I've never been like that." Harry's voice was surprisingly soft. Daphne had been right: He didn't hate Ginny; he even understood her reaction in a way. But that didn't excuse it. And he certainly didn't trust her in the moment. She got that right.

Ginny sighed and nodded weakly. "Now I know. Perhaps – after a while – you're willing to give me a chance to get to know the real Harry. I don't want to be your girlfriend anymore; I accept that you've chosen someone else. But perhaps we could be friends again. I really miss you, and Hermione and Neville too."

She didn't look up, but Daphne sensed how her trembling intensified with every minute she was waiting for an answer. None of his friends except Luna looked in Harry's direction. They didn't want to pressure him in any way. Luna had her dreamy look again and stared at something above Harry's head.

"It's too early, Ginny," Harry decided in the end. Ginny nodded again, still looking down. It was weird for Daphne to see the vivid girl in this state. Perhaps there had really been more than simple hero adoration. Not that it excused Ginny's manner in any way. Daphne still didn't regret the punch to her face, but almost gently she said: "Perhaps we could start with being polite to each other again. What do you think, Harry?"

Did he really want her around? She was Ron's sister and Molly's daughter, two reasons to stay away from her. But on the other hand he never had problems with Arthur or Charlie. And he really liked the twins. "Okay," he agreed in the end. "We'll try this. Still not friends, Ginny, but we're housemates again."

"Thank you."

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – Evening of January the eighth_

.

There wasn't a real welcoming feast after the winter break, nothing comparable to the first meal of a new school year. But nonetheless a large number of students had started to gather in the Great Hall. The students of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang had returned the day before and now they mingled with their new friends. Especially the open and charming – if they wanted to be – Beauxbatons girls had collected quite a number of friends among the Hogwarts' boys. And at least the girls of Ravenclaw had started some groups for common learning with them.

Another group entered the Hall and Harry followed them with his eyes. Fleur was – as always – at the lead. The other girls apparently had accepted her position as the Alpha She-wolf in their pack, had accepted her status as their Champion after some days of lamentation. In the beginning – Harry noticed – not everyone had been convinced about her participation. As if her Veela status would have made an impact on the Goblet. But certainly how brilliant she handled her Dragon at the first task had been proof enough. Not only had the tactic – to use a sleeping spell – been graceful, but the pure fact that she had been able to cast a spell powerful enough to have this effect showed her magical strength. Professor Flitwick had once mentioned Fleur Delacour's talent for Charm spells, but it had still been impressive.

As the mentioned girl walked in his direction, Harry watched another girl with a frown, another Beauxbatons girl, who had been especially distraught after the choosing two months ago. She had been at Fleur's side when they entered and now turned towards the Hufflepuff table. Her motions were a bit stiff, a bit odd, but she tried to hide it, showed a smile to everyone. _Could it be_? He mused. She reminded him of something. Her behavior, her stance and her smile were far too familiar to him.

"Hi 'arry," Fleur greeted him, waving a letter on front of his face to get his attention. Shortly following his stare, she grimaced. "That's Claire Roussevalle. Shall I introduce you?" She smirked, glancing in Daphne's direction: "But I don't know if she would be interested in someone who's already … taken."

Harry blinked, pondered for a moment and shook his head. "No, that's … that's not necessary. How are you, Fleur?"

"Better," she smiled back "far better now after two weeks with my family. It was especially nice to see my little sister again."

"You have a sister? Is she at Beauxbatons too?"

"No, she's too young. She'll start school next year. You'll meet her in February. Gabrielle will accompany my parents to watch the second task. They want to show her Hogwarts." On his quizzical look she explained: "My parents are thinking about sending her to Hogwarts for education."

"Wouldn't that be difficult for her?" Daphne asked, her voice expressing her sympathy. "The first school year is tough for most students, but to leave your home country too, with most students around speaking a foreign language. Are they sure about this decision?"

Fleur's face hardened: "There are others reasons more important to my parents' decision." Her face softened again and she nodded slightly: "But I agree with you." Sighing she turned to Harry again: "I've a letter for you … from Charlie. See you tomorrow." With a wave she departed, leaving the letter on the table.

Slightly frowning Harry fetched the letter, opened it and started to read while his friends continued their conversation and even shortly discussed Harry's interest in Claire Roussevalle. "You should be careful," Hermione teased Daphne. "Perhaps she has Veela blood too. Men are sometimes a bit fickle." Daphne punched her for a response but at least grinned only, certain that Harry had been thinking about something else as he watched the French girl.

"He's writing about Christmas with his family and how his days had been with the Delacours. Apparently little Gabrielle adores me and wants my autograph," he groaned shortly under the well-meaning mockery of his friends. "He even met Anne at the Christmas Ball. She mentioned something to him about Dragon problems in Spain. They're searching for someone qualified to handle the matter. Wouldn't that be interesting? To visit Charlie in Spain would be far more interesting than in some Romanian backwater village."

"I assumed you would be tired of Dragons now, Harry," Neville teased.

Harry shrugged. "They're still very interesting creatures. It's certainly not a bad attitude that they want to defend their eggs, be it original or false ones."

He read on and frowned deeply. After a look around he whispered: "He's writing about Ginny too. Before he left there had been quite a dispute at the Burrow. Charlie wrote that Molly wanted to stir Ginny in my direction again, even mentioned some kind of perfume of compulsion." His face slowly turned red with anger now. "Blasted cow," he struggled to stay low with his voice. "Ginny declined the idea, but Charlie heard his mother arrange a conversation with Dumbledore."

"That old goat," Daphne hissed. Hermione only nodded, her agreement telling how much her opinion about the Headmaster had changed.

"You'll have to be careful," Neville whispered urgently. "Perhaps they'll try something like this without Ginny's knowledge."

"That would be possible," Daphne agreed. "I don't think that Ginny would be a willing part of such a plan. Her grief and regret were for real."

"Perhaps I should write Mother about it. She could send us a few flushing potions, just in case." Harry wasn't amused in the least about the prospect of a love potion or something similar.

"We'll do that," Daphne agreed. "Don't worry. We Pinegrew ladies watch out for our men."

.

_**A/N **_

_I'll be on vacation from the 12__th__ onwards (only for a week). I'm not certain about finishing another chapter until then. _

_And I've still to decide about Gabrielle Delacour staying at Hogwarts the next year (remember: This story and its sequel is about the years four and five of Harry). What do you think about her?_


	31. Chapter 31 I'm back, who else?

**I'm back – Who else?**

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 9th of January Dinner_

.

"Spill!"

Harry looked into Daphne's face, pondering about how to react to her question. Her gaze was intense and she didn't seem to be in the mood to hear some lame joke from him. Curiosity was there, but much more than anything else Harry saw concern. It was an expression he knew all too well from Hermione, from those conversations she had started with questions like 'how had been your summer break', knowing that he wouldn't answer honestly but trying nonetheless. _She is suspecting something_.

They were sitting at the dinner table together with Hermione. Neville had left some minutes ago to speak with Professor Sprout about something regarding her subject. A moment ago Daphne had followed his stare to the weird Beauxbatons girl from yesterday. The evening before and most of the time they had been in the Great Hall today, he hadn't been willing to lose sight of her. He had even visited Madam Pomfrey shortly, asking – hopefully without attracting attention – if Claire was there. "No, she's not – haven't seen her this year."

Now she had left, behaving and moving like the day before, in hidden pain; _if she was in pain, why didn't she allow Poppy to treat her_? Harry had been deep in thoughts until his girlfriend interrupted him. Daphne's eyes showed him that she wasn't jealous, but irritated about the reason of his interest.

Harry smiled weakly: "I'll tell you – but not here." He shortly glanced in Hermione's direction. "I need help … from both of you." With a small, uneasy smile he added: "I've a plan."

In silence Hermione and Daphne followed him out of the Hall and towards one of the smaller rooms that had been prepared to allow students from all three schools to have a bit of privacy for studying or simply relaxing. It was empty now, small heaps of garbage telling that someone had used it the day before for a 'return party'. Apparently the house elves had been too busy with all else to clean the room properly since then. Or they'd simply forgotten this one. Harry could 'feel' Daphne's questioning look and Hermione's answering shrug without looking in their direction.

He acknowledged with a small nod that Daphne not only closed the door but locked it with a spell and put some silencing spells on it. The last one she used Harry didn't even know and the typical glimmer of interest in Hermione's eyes did wonders to relax him. _This will be difficult_. Harry didn't like to speak about these things, but they had to understand. And these girls would understand, he was certain.

.

"I've never told you much about my childhood," he started slowly. Both girls had taken seats some steps away, sensing that he needed a bit of space now to gather his thoughts. Hermione listened especially closely. Despite knowing Harry for more than three years, despite guessing that his time with the Dursleys has never been very homely, she didn't really know how this time had been. Even to her he had always been very private in that regard.

"For ten years I had lived with the Dursleys, my Aunt Petunia, her husband Vernon and their whale of a son Dudley before I received the letter from Hogwarts. They're my only blood relatives as far as I know and supposedly this is somehow important – important enough that the Headmaster ignored the wishes of my parents to let me stay with someone else, with someone my parents had chosen like Mother or Augusta.

"You must understand that my childhood wasn't very pleasant." His voice was only a whisper now, the complete silence around allowing the girls to understand him nonetheless. "Certainly there are other children who live in worse conditions, but …"

He made a weak gesture. "If it happens to yourself you always think that it is especially tough." He pressed a smile to lighten the mood, but it was not reciprocated. "Most of the time it was only – if you can really use the word 'only' in this context – verbal and emotional abuse. Petunia never showed any kind of affection, nothing a mother normally would do, nothing I experience since I'm a member of your family, Daphne. No nice words, no friendly gesture – nothing that would make their house something I could call a home.

"I had no friends back then. Even at the school no one was willing to spend time with me. The few children that dared to play with me were threatened by Dudley and stayed away after that. And about my parents I knew nearly nothing until I met Hagrid. There were no pictures, no letters and no tale-telling about how my mother had been as a child. Instead they used my parents' names like cusses, told me that they had died drunken in a car accident." Daphne gasped, for a moment unable to stay calm, her eyes glinting. Everyone in the Wizarding knew how the Potters had died: Trying to defend their son, dying to allow him to live. Telling him this story, telling him that they had been drunkards, their death self-imposed, had been horrible and cruel.

"Harry-hunting," he continued "that was what Dudley and his friends called one of their favorite pastimes. It was the reason for most of my childhood bruises, results of their punches and kicks or my attempts to flee them. But some injuries …" He struggled visibly and now Daphne hurried at his side, hugging him. Hermione twitched for a moment, wanted to be there too, but stayed back. This was Daphne's job now, she realized, as it was her job to be Neville's support should he ever need her – need her like he had done only a week ago.

"There had been moments of physical abuse too, not so often but they existed. If Uncle Vernon was in a very bad mood, if something happened at work or I accidently used magic – like that afternoon when I apparated on the roof to flee from Dudley – yelling and insulting apparently wasn't enough anymore and he started to hit me. Sometimes Petunia stopped him – certainly not out of sympathy but because she feared reactions from the neighbors."

Harry went silent for a while, the only noise caused by Daphne's hand rubbing his back. He gulped: "I had bruises, contusions, once even a broken arm. I tried to hide them when I went to school, conjured up excuses to explain them, always behaving 'normal'."

"And," Daphne asked with a soft voice "you assume that it is the same with that French girl? Isn't she too old to experience something like that?"

Harry shook his head determinedly. "You're never too old for fear and hurt."

"There had been articles," Hermione interjected. "I read articles in the journals at my parents' practice: Stories about children beaten by their parents, about wives living in fear of their husband."

"I don't understand," Daphne frowned. "I comprehend a child fearing its father, but a nearly grown girl and especially a woman should be able to defend her freedom. I've not much sympathy for a woman that's not willing to fight for her rights."

For a moment Daphne saw disappointment in Harry's eyes and she felt bad about what she had said. But then Harry's face softened again and he gently cupped her cheek with his hand. "That's because you're a very special girl, Daphne, a strong girl. I remember the story about you declining Draco's 'generous offer' to be engaged to him." A small grin played around his lips, only intensifying as Daphne's growled a bit, thinking about the git. "You're fiery and strong-willed; I fear even more than Hermione."

"Hey," Hermione complained mockingly.

Harry grinned only. "We'll have fabulous rows, I'm certain. But really," he got serious again. Not everyone is like you. And you have only to tell someone often enough how worthless she is and she'll start to believe it. Even Hermione will be hurt if you mock her because of her thirst for knowledge and she's certainly not a weak girl. But way too often she had been mocked because of her love for books."

"He's right about that, Daphne," Hermione agreed, her expression and tone of voice causing Harry to feel guilty. Ron had been one of those who had mocked Hermione and he had stayed silent far too often. "Abuse is everywhere and it is especially hard to take from your family. You said that this Claire should be able to defend herself. But how could she do it? What if she fights and her family doesn't allow her to continue her education? How much would you be willing to endure to continue schooling? How much would you endure from your father to be allowed around your mother, your sister?"

"Everything," Daphne whispered. "My mother, Astoria … they mean everything to me." She understood now. Fighting your own family wasn't easy. Luckily she had Mum and Grandma on her side. How would her struggle against the engagement have been decided otherwise? She knew the stories of Sirius and Andromeda Black, how they rebelled against their parents and lost their families. Could she do this herself? Could she go against her father, knowing that she would lose Astoria in the process? After a moment of silence she added: "I'm sorry about what I said. I simply don't know Claire's situation. Perhaps she has no escape."

"Do you remember Madam Pomfrey's answer?" Harry asked. "Mother asked her about me, about what she knew about my … my 'situation'."

Daphne remembered it; the answer had been enough to make her blood boil. "She said that she knew. She said that she told the Headmaster and that she wasn't allowed to react."

"Exactly," Harry agreed. "And do you remember what Mother told about Professor Snape, about his youth and what she read in his medical file? He had endured something similar, I'm sure. And certainly there are other students who experience the same. Viktor told me that corporal punishment is something normal at Durmstrang. And while I don't expect the same from Beauxbatons …"

"Appearance," Daphne sighed. "Appearance is extremely important among the old French families. Nobody would step in if a child is abused by its family as long as the appearance is whole and healthy."

"That's what I fear. Perhaps I see something like this earlier than others because of my history. But certainly a teacher would know, would realize if it happened more than once to one of his students. Why don't they act on that knowledge?"

"Professor Snape reacted," Daphne whispered, causing wide eyes from Harry and Hermione. "Tell no one, but … he examines his students, especially those who react weird, behave subdued, move unnatural; those with a history, those with parents known for their temper. He stepped in more than once, was able to help more than one child. He can't solve every problem but he tried to do as much as possible. Please understand: Professor Snape is feared even among Slytherin students, but he is respected too. He has a sharp tongue. He is a caustic, derisive git even among his own house. But he has been willing to help every time one of us really needed it."

"That's … unexpected." Harry stared at Daphne. It was difficult to imagine Snape as a caring teacher. But perhaps this was simply another unknown side of him, a side he didn't show anybody out of his house. "Perhaps he is like that because of his own history."

"But still," Hermione continued "it's not enough. Too often nothing happens; too often we ignore what students experience at home. There's nothing in the Wizarding like the Muggle Child Care. There no Ministry social worker visiting the family. And if even Poppy isn't allowed to react ..."

"It's a fine line, Hermione." Daphne tried to explain. "In the Wizarding parents are still allowed to punish their children. The laws Muggles invented in the last decades to protect children, to protect especially women from domestic violence – they never made it into the magical world. There isn't something like a women's refuge in Diagon Alley."

"That's all very well, but what shall we do now about Claire?" Hermione sighed.

"As I already said," Harry responded "I have a plan. But I'll need your help, ladies."

.

_Great Hall – 10__th__ of January – Lunch_

.

"Hi Claire."

The addressed girl turned around, only to see that bushy-haired girl that was often around the youngest Champion. According to rumors she was one of Potter's best friends and extremely intelligent. Fleur praising someone like this meant something to her, despite the constant competition between the girls. Claire didn't really want to speak with anyone now, had even avoided her new Hufflepuff friends today. She felt tired and some of the bruises didn't heal properly. But perhaps this could be a distraction from her pain. Her side had hurt awfully today, her healing charms unable to do anything about it. If only she were better at them. But no healer belonged to the small entourage and she would never go to the English nurse.

"I heard you come from Orleans."

Claire nodded slowly, not knowing what this was all about. With a smile Hermione took a seat across her. It had been a good idea to ask Fleur about Claire. And with Hermione knowing some parts of France fairly well it should be easy to have a conversation about the country, interesting enough to divert Claire's attention from her vicinity. "My family has been in France several times. We want to visit your home town next summer. I hoped you'd be able to give me some hints."

The next thirty minutes before they had to leave for afternoon lessons were very pleasant. _This English girl was witty and well-spoken_, Claire had to admit. She didn't notice the group of Slytherins in her back, didn't notice that only Blaise and Tracey were taking part in their own small conversation, shielding Daphne from any observer, hiding the noises of soft spoken incantations and the scratches of a magical quill, recording the results on parchment. Little did Claire guess how much this little conversation would change her life.

.

_Potion Master Office – 10__th__ of January evening_

.

_What nonsense_, Severus Snape growled, sitting alone in his office, the unwrapped book – a birthday present from Roxanne Greengrass – on the table, her letter full of nonsense in his hands. His birthday had been the day before and luckily no one had dared to congratulate him – apart from the Headmaster as could be expected from the old goat. And Minerva had been here for their usual 'birthday tea and cake', the only present he endured without much complaining and even liked a bit.

_A picture_? He continued to growl. A picture of his parents they had given to the boy – what an idea this had been. As if anyone wanted to be reminded of James bloody Potter. For a moment he stopped in his ramblings, his mind turning to Lily Potter, his one and only childhood friend. She belonged to Harry's parents too. More than once it had startled him to look into her green eyes when he stared at the insufferable boy.

"I don't want you to cuddle him, Severus." She had written. "I don't want you to speak nice about his father."

_As if I ever would_, Severus Snape cursed.

"But you have known Lily better than anyone of us. You knew a side of James I've never seen."

_Nobody had been willing to see this other side. Everyone only saw the golden boy, unable to do anything wrong_.

"I want Harry to know his real parents, at least as far as possible with this picture. I want him to know both sides; the good and the bad, his virtues and his faults."

_What virtues_? Severus Snape asked with a deep frown.

"Please help me with this, Severus."

To read this letter made him want to tear his hairs. He really didn't want this. He didn't have the wish to think about James Potter and wanted even less to think about Lily, about his debt. But even if he didn't like the boy – oh Merlin how much he disliked him – he owed him this. Because of his actions Harry had lost his parents and this picture would be a way to repay his debt at least a tiny little bit. And he owed it Roxanne too. She had been one of those who had smuggled healing potions into his trunk before the summer break. He had known, but never spoken about it.

And how had he repaid her kindness? Because of Lucius' wishes he had stayed silent about Cyrus and his ugly plans. Now, with Harry belonging to the family, those plans were hopefully futile. But still – he should have told her. Severus Snape, Potions Master and former Death Eater, was unsure. What should he do?

.

"Please repeat why I should be willing to help you, Miss Greengrass."

The black-haired girl was sitting in front of him, just minutes after he had finished pondering about her mother's letter. Some papers of her were resting on the table now together with her wand. A new wand, he noticed. A Madam Guila wand, he realized. He owned one of her wands himself, used it only in the potions lab were fine-tuning the magic was more important than raw power. Her wand used another jewel; one used for examination spells if he remembered correctly. Apparently Roxanne had used the winter break for a little shopping as Daphne's wand wasn't the only new one around. Madam Sprout hadn't been able to stay silent at dinner, had spoken highly of Longbottom's new herbalism wand. _As if a new wand would be of any help_, he mused darkly.

"I need your help, Professor, regarding the health of one of the Beauxbatons female students."

"And why exactly, pray do tell, should her health be of any interest to me? I'm certain," he huffed "that Madam Maxime is fully able to take care of her … sweet darlings." He didn't like the French students and he certainly didn't like their Headmistress. It wasn't her status as a half-giant but to watch her flirting with Hagrid made Snape violently ill.

The dark potion master glowered at the girl, but to his indignation she didn't appear to be impressed very much. _Was she simply stupid or brave? Most likely both_, he groaned inwardly. He had to admit that her small eruption a month ago had impressed him. It was a bit Gryffindorish to act like she had done, but to care for your friends – especially weaker ones – was a trait he could accept, even respect.

"Please read," she begged instead of an answer and pushed the papers towards him. After a last glare he started to read, concentrated and fast as usual. It was a – certainly magical gathered as he didn't know the script – summary of a magical health examination. He had to admit – at least to himself – that he was impressed with the quality of the work. Poppy had spoken highly of the girl, her talents and how she had handled the healing of that stupid tomcat. He really would have liked to watch her punching the Weaslette. Everybody who punched a Weasley did something right, in his opinion.

The examination had been carefully executed, was nearly all-encompassing and very structured – something he had seen more than once in her assignments. While Daphne wasn't one of his most talented students, she did well, worked carefully and was fully able to produce a large number of different and fully acceptable potions. A few of her conclusions were a bit rash but the overall result could only be the one: He had to act.

"And what do you expect me to do?"

Daphne smiled, her next sentence prompting Severus Snape to groan again. "Mister Potter had a plan …"

.

_At the same time – near the Gryffindor tower_

.

"Miss Granger?"

Hermione turned around only to see the stern face of her favorite teacher. Minerva McGonagall had always been her role model, the type of woman – intellectual and regarding behavior and morals – she strove to be. This evening her face showed her uneasiness. _She doesn't want this conversation_, Hermione mused.

Harry had departed with Daphne to wait for her near Snape's office. _"If he's not willing to help I want to go to Madam Pomfrey immediately."_

Hermione on the other hand had waited for Neville and now they were on their way to the Gryffindor dorm, holding hands and Neville talking agitatedly about his conversation with Madam Sprout. _He always has this fire in his eyes, speaking about plants_, Hermione smiled inwardly. She really hoped that the Ritual had helped. Anne had ordered him to be careful for a while and Hermione had been repeating the meditation lessons with him every day. With his new wand he had become better at casting spells. Like announced it wasn't a large jump but Hermione had noticed the difference, knowing full well how his casting had been in the past. They would continue to train. _And someone would pay_. For a short moment a burst of anger passed her body, darkened her eyes.

"The Headmaster wants to see you, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded. As Neville started to follow her, Professor McGonagall stopped him: "Alone."

Hermione had to take a few heavy breathes, anger darkening her face again.

"I can't allow that." Neville's answer, softly spoken but his face showing his determination, shocked Minerva even more than Hermione. "Hermione is under the protection of House Longbottom and with my Grandma not present it is my duty to escort her." Neville's appearance was far securer than he felt. Even with the change he was inwardly still a bit too shy, the thought to go against his Headmaster's wishes causing a knot in his stomach.

He raised his chin, daring Minerva to oppose him. For some long moments Minerva watched him intensely. She knew about the magical guardianship, knew that Augusta had already executed the formalities. Neville's Grandma had written her about it, something she hadn't told the Headmaster. He had heard about it through other channels. Augusta had been a good friend for a long time. For more than forty years Minerva had been a teacher at Hogwarts, for more than the same time Augusta had been a member of the school board. After the war they had drifted away a bit, but their fight against those cowardly Death Eaters at the Quidditch finals had rekindled their friendship.

She had been angry when Dumbledore told her that he wanted to speak with Hermione about the adoption. To have Augusta for a magical guardian was certainly one of the best possible solutions for the extremely talented young witch. More than once Minerva had feared to think about how Hermione would fare after the school, how her status as a Muggleborn would deny her a career she deserved. And now – she feared – Dumbledore wanted to take that away again.

Watching the young Longbottom intensely she thought about the change in him she had noticed. Only two days he had been back, but the change had been noticeable. Filius had assumed that it was a result of his new wand – his own wand, attuned to him and not his father – and his new self-esteem, stemming from the relation to Hermione Granger. But Minerva wasn't certain. Yes, these were two very good reasons and certainly played a role, but there had to be something else.

In the years ago Neville – who had always been quite good at the theory – had been real awful at casting spells. To be honest: Until now he belonged to the same category as Crabbe and Goyle when it came to the practical execution of his knowledge. But he had improved, was now more in the middle of her class and she hoped for more. If Hermione had this impact on him, then her relation to Augusta was only the more important.

Interpreting her continuing silence as approval, Neville continued: "And I request your presence to at the Headmaster's office – in your position as the Head of House Gryffindor." This request had a completely different reason. Neville didn't trust the Headmaster. In the beginning he hadn't been willing to believe that Dumbledore had done this meddling with his magical balance. But he had noticed the changes too, noticed the approving smile of Hermione, this butterflies-in-the-stomach smile that made it so difficult to 'go slowly'. Anne had been right and now he was unwilling to allow the Headmaster to see Hermione alone. But what if he lost his temper? Every time Neville saw the Headmaster now, every time he thought about him, another wave of rage hit his mind.

"I comply with your request, Mister Longbottom," Minerva answered with a small nod and the faintest of smiles. She had disappointed her cubs in the past, she wouldn't repeat this error. And even if Augusta hadn't been willing to share Neville's secret with her, she was willing to trust him in this matter, him and her favorite witch.

.

"Miss Granger," Headmaster Dumbledore sighed.

He was slowly getting angry and frustrated, Minerva could see this. Albus hadn't been happy about seeing her and Neville escorting Hermione into his office. For a few moments he even had to struggle to show his usual friendly face again, his eyes twinkling like mad.

Fawkes had greeted both students with some happy trilling and stunned everybody as he hopped on the table and allowed Neville to stroke his plumage, something only Harry had been allowed in the past. Something really had happened to the boy, something that the Headmaster didn't like in the slightest according to his slipping expression.

"Lemon drops," he had asked as usual. Hermione had leant forward to accept the offer, only to stop when Neville barked a "no thank you." Minerva had suppressed her grin. It was an open secret – at least among the teachers – that the Headmaster offered a very special kind of lemon drops, coated in a weak calming potion. Had Augusta shared this secret with her grandson?

Albus had started slowly, trying to get the teenagers to relax, speaking about Christmas, their train ride back and how their families fared. But the more time passed, the more agitated especially Neville had become, unwilling to continue this nonsense. And his angry grunt – when Albus at last started to talk about the real reason of this conversation – nearly prompted Minerva to giggle. Not that she would ever giggle; she wasn't a girl anymore but a sober person.

"Some of the decisions you and your friends made last year caused concern among your teachers." Minerva was unable and unwilling to stop herself from commenting this statement with a harrumph. Dumbledore glared in her direction, only to be surprised by Hermione's determined voice.

"Our decisions they had been, Headmaster, as you stated correctly. They concern our private, our family life and I don't see any reason why they should be of any interest to the school administration."

Minerva allowed herself to get carried away by her emotions. This was simply too good. Obviously Neville and Hermione both had gained from their relationship, like Daphne and Harry had been good for each other too, something even Severus had admitted in private. Now not only a smile crept on Minerva's lips, but she put a reassuring hand on Hermione's shoulder and pressed it shortly. "I agree, Miss Granger."

Hermione still didn't relax but the thankful smile on Neville's face proved that she had reacted in the right way.

For a moment Dumbledore was taken aback. Never before had Minerva taken a position like this in front of students. If she criticized his actions, she had always done this in private. He coughed two times and tried to switch to his 'concerned grandfather face', the change not completely successful. "We're caring for you. We want you to be secure that you don't err with important decisions about your future, decisions that are quite difficult for someone who has been raised in the Muggle world. Certainly you agree that Professor McGonagall and I only have your best interests at heart and would be more appropriate as your magical guardians than everybody else."

_What was worse?_ Minerva mused, that Neville answered with a snigger to this silly speech or Hermione's reaction: "I've certainly no trust problems with Professor McGonagall – especially after the change in her demeanor in the last months." She turned around and smiled thankfully while Dumbledore tried to get back his composure. "I never thanked you for what you did, Professor. Even without Professor Snape not taking part, it had been good to see that the other House Heads noticed how grave the 'Mudblood' insult always has been for us Muggleborns. Thank you very much."

Minerva smiled back, disregarding the glare Dumbledore threw in her direction. He hadn't been happy about her advance.

The Headmaster coughed slightly: "Well, well. I only feared that your decision about your magical guardianship was perhaps a bit hasty."

"I never do hasty."

Minerva couldn't suppress her smile at the determined and angry answer – and correct answer to add as she knew quite well how thoroughly Hermione Granger always pondered about everything.

Dumbledore was at the end of his patience now. _This impertinent girl_, he cursed. _Why didn't she see that he knew better?_ For a moment he thought about threatening her with her continued education but with the young Longbottom and the troublesome Minerva in the same room, this could be disastrous. He needed a toehold for the discussion, some argument that would allow him to sway her mind. And he needed it fast.

Luckily he was able to use Legilimency without incantation or wand. He was far stronger using both but he could do without and it would be less conspicuous. Hopefully Miss Granger hadn't improved again. He turned the conversation to something more harmless, asked her about Harry's plans for the next term. Minerva had told him that Harry wanted to drop Divination and take Ancient Runes instead. That he hadn't to take an exam at the year's end because of his Champion status would allow him more than enough time to catch up until the OWL. And Daphne and Hermione would certainly be more than happy and able to help him.

It wasn't really of interest for him how Harry fared in his education as long as he continued to be in the school. But it allowed him to continue the conversation and divert Hermione's attention while he invaded her mind. With ease he was able to break through her outer defense. It was quite strong for a girl of her age, he admitted. Some of his teachers hadn't an equally strong defense. Her mind tried to divert his advance, tried to hide her thoughts behind garbage. But he wouldn't allow her to …

_What in the name of Merlin …_

For a second his words faltered. Dumbledore found himself at a weird place. He knew Occlumency well enough to instantly understand that this was Miss Granger's dreamscape. _She shouldn't be able to already develop her own dreamscape_, Dumbledore frowned. Room after room he crossed, each of them in a dazzling white; bright lamps illuminated every corner. In every room was a dentist's chair, in every room he saw an assortment of modern and medieval dentist's tools, some of them more resembling instruments of torture. Drilling noises were everywhere; cries of pain filled the air. Doctors in white coats were walking around, surgical masks hiding their faces, cruel eyes staring at him.

He had to find a way through this maze of horror. Dumbledore knew … sensed, that he would be able to conquer this defense despite the irritation he felt about Miss Granger's surprising abilities. But just as he wanted to go ahead, to make use of his far greater experience, something hit his head, broke his concentration and stopped his endeavor.

Concentrating on the persons around him again, he felt blood running down his face. Something had hit his brow and cut the skin. Flabbergasted he noticed the bloody instrument on the floor, normally resting on the table to be used as a paperweight but now used by Neville as missile. The boy knew Hermione well enough, had been through enough lessons about Occlumency and Legilimency to detect the signs. _This bloody prat tried to read Hermione's mind._ Despite her training she wouldn't be able to stay strong against the Headmaster for long. He had to help her. The assumption that – without the presence him and Professor McGonagall – Dumbledore would have used Legilimency at full force and certainly obliviated Hermione afterwards, made his blood boil.

Grabbing the nearest object he threw it at the Headmaster, certainly no less stunned about his action as Professor McGonagall was now. Only his anger allowed Neville to hiss: "Stop to use Legilimency on my girlfriend this instant, Headmaster. I'll inform my Grandmother about this incident and be assured that we won't be happy."

_We_, Minerva smiled. How often had Draco Malfoy threatened someone with his father? But unlike with the Slytherin git Minerva had no doubts that Augusta and Neville would stand side by side to defend Hermione against everyone – even against the Headmaster.

"Mister Longbottom, Miss Granger – you'll leave the office this instant. This conversation is over. The Headmaster and I have some important and urgent issues to discuss."

.

_**A/N**_

_Just in time finished. In one hour I'll start my small vacation. I hope you like this chapter. Please ignore the errors; I hadn't much time for beta reading. The next chapter should be online in 12-14 days. See you then. _


	32. Chapter 32 Coincidences

_**A/N**_

_I'm so excited – more than 1,000 followers to this story. There have been many helpful hints and fantastic ideas so far. Too many even, I have to admit. Please don't be sad that there simply isn't enough room to put every single one of them into action._

.

**Coincidences**

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_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 12__th__ of January – Lunch_

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With carefully studied poise Headmaster Dumbledore was sitting at the teachers' table. He was waiting for the arrival of the mail owls, hoping for a very special delivery, one to the young Longbottom. He suppressed a sigh when he remembered the last evening. His behavior had been an error, a nearly critical one even. The resistance of Miss Granger had been a surprise, the reaction of Mister Longbottom an even greater one. With Minerva observing the whole exchange he should have refrained from using his Legilimency skills. Or at least he should have stopped after realizing her resistance.

He needed the sympathy or at least the respect of both students if he wanted to ever be able to get back the trust of the Potter-boy. After the disaster around Gringotts their so far splendid relationship – with the naïve boy rating him as something like a well-meaning grandfather – had received a grave dent. His yesterday behavior had been a result of this sudden change. It had been a hasty – and stupid, he had to admit – decision. Now he had to rebuild from a heap of self-imposed fragments.

The first step had been a letter to Augusta Longbottom. He had written her immediately after his conversation with Minerva. Albus shuddered shortly. No, it hadn't been a conversation, more a one-sided shouting match with Minerva trying to blast his head away with the brunt of her rage. Only after some embarrassing groveling had he been able to sooth her at least a little. He had promised her to apologize for his behavior and not repeat it. He intended to keep this promise. At least he wouldn't allow anyone to fetch him otherwise. With a bit of luck his letter would reach Augusta before her grandson would be able to write her. With an even bigger clump of luck she would believe him.

For a moment his eyes roamed around the table.

Moody – he had spoken with him this morning. His old friend would try to deepen his connection to the boy, perhaps even change it into a mentor-student friendship. Moody had proposed to offer the boy some additional training. With Potter's interest in dueling and DADA he certainly would agree. If his plans about getting back the students' trust didn't work, Albus would need someone near Harry, someone who was on his side steadfastly and without qualms like Minerva.

Minerva – she was sitting there together with Filius and Pomona. Since their collective action a month ago their already formidable friendship had only deepened. He knew about the newly intensified correspondence between Minerva and Agatha Pinegrew. A result of them had been a number of ideas Minerva brought to his attention – plans about changing some things at Hogwarts. Mostly they were small and unimportant ones like a teacher accompanying the first train of the school year – meant to help Muggleborn newcomers too – or like offering fruits in addition to the sweets on the train. Proposing to think about it had been enough to get back some sorely needed brownie points. But sooner or later she would ask again.

Other ideas had been more far-reaching and he had been able to stall her with his concerns about the needed funding. She wanted to broaden the subject of Muggle Lore, wanted to incorporate the reverse: Content to teach the Muggleborns something about the laws and quirks of the Wizarding. Even the – in the eyes of Muggles outdated – wizard marriage laws should be a theme of that subject, in Minerva's eyes at least. Albus didn't like these ideas in the least. Too much knowledge in the hands of the Muggleborn would only weaken the older wizard families.

Minerva was watching him like a hawk and Dumbledore turned away. She had expressed openly her regret about cancelling Roxanne Greengrass' apprenticeship fifteen years ago. And now she was even supporting Potter's friendship with that Greengrass girl. Albus struggled to suppress another deep sigh. That Filius was on the girl's side hadn't been a surprise. She had been one of his favorite students and – after opening the connection to some wizard journals – he had been thrilled to bits every time one of her articles had been published. And Albus had to admit: She'd got talent.

More surprising had been Pomona's support in the matter. In the beginning Albus had been able to turn her against the inter-house friendship, but since Greengrass had rescued the Granger-girl from that poisoning attack and saved one of Pomona's dear Puffs from a murder charge at the same moment, Pomona had switched sides. Both girls had – together with their friends – supported Susan Bones afterwards, declared quite openly that they trusted her and believed her story. This conduct had impressed Pomona only the more, her Puff mindset believing loyalty to be the most important trait in a person. Apparently she hadn't been able to realize what he had seen immediately: That it had been a political move to get Amelia Bones in their pocket. A very Slytherin move, he had to admit.

So of all House Heads he had only Snape on his side, but even his Potion Master hadn't been of much help so far. With his reaction after the attack on Greengrass Snape even showed that he couldn't be fully trusted about the Potter-Greengrass-matter. No, he had to find other ways; he had to be more careful and scheming than before.

For a moment Albus followed Snape's amused stare to the Ravenclaw table. There – not far away from that weird Lovegood-girl, a person he regretfully had ignored far too long – the students of Beauxbatons were sitting. One of them was discussing fervently with Fleur Delacour, more than once glaring at Snape. Albus frowned. He had seen the girl before, but had no idea about her name. From her appearance she could be a family member of the Roussevalles, an influential family stemming from Orleans. Not as influential as the Delacours but important enough not to ignore them completely. And if she was a friend of Fleur …

Her father had been excited to hear about his daughter being one of the Champions. Joseph Delacour was a rising star in the French Ministry and Albus had no doubts that he would be able to become the next Minister in a few years. He only needed a bit of additional support and had started to beguile the influential Headmaster of Hogwarts a while ago. When Fleur was chosen as the Champion of Beauxbatons, Joseph had assumed Albus' doing behind the scenes, interpreted it as a kind of supportive action. Albus had neither agreed nor denied the idea but only smiled mysteriously.

Now the Delacours wanted to send their second daughter to Hogwarts next year. He whole-heartedly supported the idea. To have the daughter of the French Minister in his vicinity, in his sphere of influence could only be helpful in the future. He had to think more about it, find a way to use this to his advantage.

Wing beating was in the air. Ah – Albus smiled. One of the owls targeted the young Longbottom. Now he had to wait for his reaction. Hopefully it was as intended.

.

_Hogwarts – Potion Class Room – 12__th__ of January afternoon_

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"What's with him today again?" Neville asked his girlfriend, looking irritated at Professor Snape. It was the first potion lesson after the winter break and he had hoped to have his peace, only to notice the really bad mood of Professor Snape. Since the beginning of the lesson he had been picking on Hermione even more than usual, neither allowing her a second of rest nor leaving a single gesture uncommented.

Hermione answered only with a shrug, not daring to look at Neville. She felt bad about keeping silent towards him, about not telling him that this belonged to Harry's plan. But Neville – brave and lovely Neville – was far too bad of an actor, wouldn't be able to hide his feelings well enough to continue convincingly. From Fleur she knew that as intended Snape had already sentenced Claire to a detention. So the first step was settled. Now Snape had to execute step two and according to his expression he enjoyed it, enjoyed it perhaps a bit too much.

.

"_Why has it to be me?" Hermione asked. "Wouldn't Daphne …"_

"_No," Snape snapped at her. "Regretfully it has to be you. I trust your abilities to knock her out without inducing real damage. Your skills at Potions are superior to those of Miss Greengrass." Daphne agreed with a smile and a shrug. Hermione knew that potions weren't Daphne's forte; that it had always been her worst subject, but still …_

_She hesitated. Had Snape just complimented her skills at potions? No, that had to be a misunderstanding. Snape would never …_

"_It is bad enough that I have to agree to an accident in my class, I don't intend to add serious injuries to the matter."_

_Hermione sighed and nodded defeated. _

"_Cheer up! I won't kill you – this time." Snape even dared to smirk. Hermione grimaced back. Shocked she saw the smallest hint of amusement in the eyes of her 'favorite' teacher._

"_You never kill anyone," Daphne commented with a low voice: "No dead, no serious injuries in 15 years of potion teaching. Mother told me about the importance of your heavy handed way of teaching. You only want to make certain that we listen."_

_Snape snarled at her: "I certainly don't need your mother's compliments or explanations," but his rage appeared a little empty and forced. _

_Hermione listened intently. This way she had never thought about his lessons. But yes – with his students in fear there weren't many grave errors, no kidding around like in other subjects that could lead to disastrous results. Perhaps his little speech back in the first year had been justified._

_Daphne ignored the snarl and even smiled softly. "She always thought that you're an awful teacher, much better at researching than at teaching. But at least we are secure."_

"_Explanations," Hermione whispered._

"_What?" Snape turned around and tried to stop her with a glare. He already regretted that he ever agreed to speak with these awful girls. No debt was worth to endure this double team._

"_I would like more explanations. Not only following a recipe but to understand 'why'. And I know that you're not content with my work, Professor, but … I have no idea what I'm doing wrong. I really try hard to …" Hermione stopped herself from saying something like 'to please you'. Snape certainly didn't want to hear something like that now. His mood was bad enough. At least Harry wasn't with them. Daphne had told him to stay away and Hermione had supported the idea to his indignation._

_Instead of growling again Snape stayed silent for a moment. There was something in his eyes, something that Hermione was unable to interpret. With a much softer growl than expected he evicted them from his room: "We'll speak about that at another time, Miss Granger. Now let us concentrate on this 'wonderful' plan." _

.

"It would be a nice change to see you simply doing at least once what I told you to," Snape snarled at Hermione after a look at her perfectly prepared ingredients. "But apparently I expect too much. Perhaps extra lessons would save us all from your splendid degree of work. I already have another hopeless case waiting this evening. I expect you to partake. Certainly I don't intend to waste more of my time than needed. This evening, Miss Granger, don't forget it."

Annoyed – even more than before – Severus Snape heard a hateful snigger from the group of Slytherins. Turning around he watched a grinning Draco – no surprise there – and an astonishingly calm Daphne. But it was Theodore Nott who started to whisper about the 'know-it-all' not knowing everything. As much as it troubled him, he had to stay calm about this stupid boy. Especially Nott of all students had no right to laugh about his best student. Not only had Nott seemingly inherited his father's lack of talent in the art of potion crafting, he was also too impatient and lazy to at least achieve the results of someone like Greengrass or even – he sighed inwardly – Potter.

Yes, he was always picking on the girl, but he had his own reasons. And this silly boy should better shut his face. Until now he hadn't spoken with him about the attack. At least Nott appeared intelligent enough to understand the possible repercussions of another attack. And hopefully the rest of the house would refrain from supporting Nott after the booting out of his two cronies.

"You know, Notti-boy," the one voice started to drawl that Severus Snape expected the least to hear in his class after the last three years and especially didn't expect to hear this way "one only gives extra lessons to someone if one expect them to learn something, else the time would be wasted. With you and your 'marvelous' degree of potion crafting Professor Snape apparently already lost all hope to ever see something more constructive than plum jam emerging from your cauldron. Without Millicent's help you would not even be able to cook water without burning it."

It was completely silent in the class room, only Millicent sniggered quietly. A month ago, when Greengrass defended Longbottom and Granger against his spite, he had been surprised, perhaps even stunned. But to hear Longbottom like this, self-confident and eloquent, prompted him to be thunderstruck. And the boy was right. Bulstrode had always been able to at least partially compensate for her lack of intelligence with sheer stubbornness and diligence. She was the complete opposite to Nott. And Longbottom – the last time he destroyed a cauldron had been a long time ago.

As he thought about it, it became clear to him, that the 'four riders of apocalypse' – as he had silently named the group around Potter for the amount of trouble they caused – had achieved something, the 'Golden Trio' had never been able to: They grew together, they learned from each other. Was it the part of the new members Longbottom and Greengrass or the lack of the old member Weasley? Most propably both.

Nonetheless, he had a reputation to defend. "I would like you to refrain from interpreting my actions and decisions, Mister Longbottom. What I expect and how I waste my time is my decision alone. And now go back to work. We already lost more than enough time with this gibberish."

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_Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – 12__th__ of January evening_

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They 'just happened to be there when the accident happened.

It wasn't that Poppy didn't like the visit. She hadn't much to do at the moment. The cases of drunkenness after the welcoming party had left her hospital yesterday morning and no Quidditch game would happen in the next weeks. And she really liked to speak with Daphne about the healing arts. The girl had shown up an hour ago, her new boyfriend in tow. Now Harry was sitting on an empty bed, reading in a Charles Dickens' novel, from time to time looking at his girlfriend with a caring smile.

Daphne had shown Poppy her newest book about rare healing spells, asking questions about her knowledge with them. Especially a few of the 'family spells' had caught her interest: Healing spells cast on a family member or strengthened with the help of one – the mother most of the time – to accelerate the healing process. Yes, she liked to speak with her and the girl's interest seemed to be genuine. But still she felt that something was amiss. Harry's calmness – while far better played than he would have a year ago – was an act. Poppy had more than enough experience with mock diseases to not detect the signs. But what were they up to?

As the door opened they whirled around, missing the small smile on the healer's face. Apparently the reason of their visit just arrived. With a frown Poppy watched Hermione Granger enter, turmoil and concern on her face quite openly and not all of it faked. She held the door open and allowed Professor Snape to follow her, levitating the body of a girl in the pale blue robe of Beauxbatons at his side.

_Please let her be okay_, Hermione prayed silently. She was 99% certain that she had done it right, that she had only knocked the girl out with 'accidently' putting the wrong ingredient into her cauldron. With the standing order to leave all healing of the Beauxbatons girls to their potion Mistress Marie Ancuille they had to find a way to enforce an impartial examination through Madam Pomfrey. Harry had – after some other ideas like simply hexing her in the passages of Hogwarts – found this a bit drastic way and to Hermione's surprise Professor Snape had agreed. There had been something in his eyes, something like realization or perhaps remembrance.

And now she was standing there, not really noticing Harry's reassuring arm around her trembling shoulders. What if she was wrong? And all the time Madam Pomfrey was discussing with Professor Snape about calling Mistress Ancuille.

"Please, stop," Hermione pledged with a trembling voice. "Please examine her. Isn't it the same who's doing the examination? We only have to act fast. It's my fault that … please Madam Pomfrey."

With a sigh Poppy turned around and cast a first spell on the girl. "Unconscious, but no concussion – seems more to be a reaction to some of the used ingredients. I don't think that she's really hurt, Miss Granger."

"Shouldn't we better examine her entirely," Daphne asked. "Perhaps she hurt herself when falling down."

With a frown Poppy carefully looked at the girl. Why would she want such a waste of spells? It was clearly visible that the accident hadn't really hurt the girl.

"I agree with Miss Greengrass."

Shocked Poppy stared at him. She blinked several times, struggled for an answer. What was happening here? Something involving not only Greengrass and Granger but Potter and Severus were taking part too? Severus and Potter working together? Slowly she had a faint suspicion what was happening here.

"Alright" she agreed. "I'll examine her." She would get to the bottom of this.

.

"You had no right to examine her."

Misstress Ancuille's shrill voice hurt Poppy's ears and grated on her nerves. The French woman – obviously from an old aristocratic family, with the face and manners of a Renaissance princess – had been badgering her since she entered the carriage to show Madam Maxime the results of her examination. The last night had been long and her patience was thin. She had to find a way to thank the teenagers for this whole 'accident'.

Bruises, contusions mostly in the abdomen, signs of physical abuse, partially more than a year old but partially received in the last weeks. A slight growl slipped through Poppy's compressed lips as she remembered the direst injury. Someone had repeatedly kicked the girl into the side and damaged one of her kidneys. The pain must have been impressive despite the girl's attempts to heal the injury and to suppress the pain with potions. A week longer without medical attention and she would have lost use of the kidney, Poppy was certain.

"She was unconscious and she was in my care at the moment. Should I leave her simply because of some formalities?" She wanted to speak with Madam Maxime about the case, not battle with this harpy. Severus had mentioned her more than once in the last months, and never in a positive way.

"There are Gryffindors with more talent at my art than this porcelain doll," he had derided her. Poppy knew at least one of those Gryffindors. She had been there yesterday, certainly not a coincidence. At least in their private meetings Severus allowed some compliments to slip. Poppy remembered how impressed he had been two years ago, learning about a second year student that had crafted a working Polyjuice potion, something not taught before NEWT classes.

"I'll have a look at these papers," Madam Maxime's calm voice stopped the fight. For a moment Poppy wanted to continue, wanted to press the matter, but a simple look into the French Headmistress' face told her enough. The girl wouldn't find any help here._ They knew before_, Poppy sighed. It was no surprise, only realization but still it hurt.

With a last nod towards the Headmistress and a glare towards the French teacher Poppy left the carriage and slowly – depressed – walked back to the infirmary. Severus would be waiting for her. Even with the injuries cared for she wouldn't allow the girl to stay unobserved, now that she had awoken. If these injuries were really the result of family abuse as they seemed to be, then the physical healing would only be the first step.

.

Shocked Poppy halted her steps as she entered the Hospital wing and noticed Harry sitting beside the French girl. They were speaking in low voices, Harry holding her hand, Snape observing them from afar, a medical file on the table in front of him. _Why is he here?_ Poppy wondered. _What are they speaking about? Shouldn't he be in the classes?_

She put on her sternest healer face and walked towards the bed, only to be stopped by Severus, the potion master sliding silently through the room and gesturing her not to disturb the teenagers. Quietly he led her away. "He'll be good for her. He knows what happened to her, what she needs now," he explained and after a moment Poppy understood, understood not only what he said but also what he had been reading. She wasn't surprised to recognize the medical file he now offered her: Harry's medical file, the file with all the results she hadn't been allowed to speak about. "You should have told me."

"Would it have changed anything?" Poppy asked him gently, not really angry that he had dared to fetch the file.

Severus frowned, stared at Harry and slowly shook his head after a while. "Perhaps not, he's still Potter's son." But his voice was a bit uncertain – at least that was what Poppy hoped to hear. She followed his eyes. Certainly he didn't look like his father anymore, at least not in the same way as before. Without his spectacles, his hairs combed and his robes of a better quality, his body better cared for and with his new calmness, the changes were unmissable. A single look at the boy was enough to convince her that her friends Minerva and Pomona had been right and the Headmaster was wrong: Daphne and Roxanne had been good for him.

"He's Lily's son too."

She expected some kind of explosion but instead he nodded calmly. "How could she do this to him? Petunia I mean," Severus asked. "She hated magic, she hated me and she was jealous of Lily. But still she loved her, even at the end, even when she tried to avoid her. I was there, you know. I visited her – disillusioned naturally – a few days after Lily's death."

Poppy stared at him. He had never mentioned this visit before. Once he had told her about his promise to protect the boy. It had been a year ago. He had been drunk and disgusted about being forced to endure the presence of Remus Lupin. But even then he hadn't spoken about this.

"Tuney was never a kind lady and her husband is an obvious ass, but at least they seemed determined to 'raise him properly', whatever that means with people like them."

"Perhaps something happened after you left; something that changed their mind."

Severus thoughtfully stared at her for a long time before he nodded: "The question is what happened … or who."


	33. Chapter 33 Nothing but the Truth

**Nothing but the truth**

.

_Longbottom Manor – 15__th__ of January – Sunday afternoon_

.

Augusta Longbottom was annoyed. This letter was really insulting her intellect. How could anyone assume that she would believe a single sentence of it? With a tad too much force she put down her precious Dresden china tea cup. The sound that left her lips could have been a low growl – if a lady would ever growl. She was a lady, so it had to be an illusion.

"He's really losing it," Minerva commented, a thin smile playing around her lips. She knew the signs. If Augusta behaved like this, she was really miffed, a situation quite dangerous for the source of her mood. Despite her self-control Augusta had quite the temper, as Minerva knew. And the 'old dragon' had been a feared duelist in her younger days. Even now she was fit enough that Minerva had no false hopes about who would win in a fight between them.

"Does he really think this letter would convince me?" Augusta asked, sitting bolt upright on her chair and staring intensely at her old friend.

Minerva sighed, stopping her involuntary shrug at the last instant. Augusta liked good behavior, adored it even like many other aspects of traditional customs. "He's trying some kind of damage control, I assume. Perhaps I've been a bit harsh after that incident and he thought it would be better to write to you before you heard about it from another person."

Augusta huffed, but didn't reply instantly. Instead she watched Minerva for a while, her stare intense enough to make it uncomfortable even for someone like Minerva McGonagall. Certainly a few of her students would have a field day to see her squirming in her seat like this. "You've changed," Augusta drily commented after a while.

"Changed for the better?" Minerva asked back, her mind not as much at ease as she tried to show.

"Yes, else you wouldn't be sitting here."

Minerva flinched. This she had missed the most in the last decade: Sitting in Longbottom Manor together with Augusta, sipping her formidable tea from her marvelous porcelain and discussing Merlin and the Wizarding. It had been one of the many things following Albus' leadership and advice had cost her. Only since a few weeks ago she had been invited to the Manor again, only since she started to stand up for her own opinions again. "I should have changed earlier," she whispered, unusually gloomy.

"Yes, you should have." Minerva flinched again. Leave it to Augusta to speak a hurtful truth without pulling any punches. She had deserved this. To her relief Augusta felt pity and changed the subject.

"But now tell me about Miss Granger."

.

"There is one point about Miss Granger," Augusta continued slowly "that I don't like."

"Pray tell." Minerva listened intensely now. Not only had Hermione been her absolute favorite student – making it hard sometimes to be impartial towards her – but also had she thought until now that Augusta had been impressed by the strong will and character of her grandson's girlfriend.

"She's a bit too Muggleborn, don't you think so?"

Minerva stared flabbergasted at her friend. She was absolutely sure that Augusta didn't share the stupid opinion of Malfoy and his friends about blood purity. So what was she speaking about?

"I mean," Augusta explained "she's not … grounded … in our society. She doesn't understand or even know our customs. She always tries to 'better' our ways. Think about her view point about house-elves or what she's thinking about our laws."

Now Minerva understood. And she even shared her friend's opinion in a way. Muggleborn witches often had problems to integrate. Especially regarding the rights of women the wizarding laws were antiquated. And how wizards interacted with other races like house elves, goblins and centaurs certainly seemed weird to someone raised in a modern society. Often these Muggleborn argued that the Wizarding society had to change, to adapt. Minerva understood both sides: The wish of these young witches for a change and the wish of older witches like Augusta – or her – to hold onto old traditions.

"Perhaps she's right and we're simply too inflexible to adapt, Augusta."

"Speak for yourself," Augusta huffed. "Think about it. She wants to change everything: Neville, the laws, how we handle our servants … everything."

"She's a bit over-enthusiastic sometimes, I give you that. But: Aren't you impressed about the changes she prompted in Neville? He's really" Minerva vaguely waved "far better than before. He's more self-confident. He's far better at spell-casting. He's more eloquent and willing to stand up, especially for his friends. Severus told me how Neville defended Hermione in Potions against that Nott-prat. You would have been proud."

Augusta smiled and nodded slightly, but stayed silent for the moment.

"She really changed him for the better. And while her opinion about how we should handle other races is a bit extreme, I think she only needs someone to explain her WHY we do what we do. She needs someone willing to work with her to find a way to help and change our society in a constructive way. She needs someone like you, Augusta. I don't see anything wrong about a young girl more interested in the welfare of every creature than her own benefit. We have far too few young witches of her kind. She only needs a bit of guidance."

Augusta sighed. It made sense and she had to agree that many rules about other races should be changed, especially those about co-living with Goblins, Centaurs and other intelligent races who had been treated like second-class for far too long. But still …

"But what about our customs? At Pinegrew Manor she was very outspoken … what?" Augusta stopped when Minerva dared to snigger at that comment. "Am I wrong?"

Minerva patted her hand. "No, you're not – basically." She pondered about something for a while before she continued. "You never made a marriage contract for Frank or Neville, didn't you?"

Augusta shook her head: "No. It may be the right course for some families but the Longbottoms had always been too strong-willed for arranged marriages. Contracts should be created to clarify the details of a marriage, not to arrange the pairing itself."

"See," Minerva agreed. "That's Hermione's opinion too. She knows the value of contracts. I'm sure it's part of her Muggleborn uprising. But she wants the freedom for everyone to choose his own partner, his own future. As with our laws about other races I expect that she would understand if you'd take your time to explain. She's a bit … aggressive … in her wish for a change, I admit. But she means well. And" Minerva smiled thoughtfully "have we been completely different at her age? I at least certainly not."

.

"Take care of them, will you?"

Minerva was preparing her departure when Augusta begged her, her voice suddenly very earnest and a bit gloomy. She knew why Augusta had qualms about allowing Neville and Hermione to stay at Hogwarts. Not only had there been the poisoning a few months ago and now the incident with Albus, but Augusta had also told her about the spell Ana Hernandez had found and lifted with the help of Augusta and Hermione. Minerva had been shocked to hear about the spell and impressed about the ritual and especially the important part of Hermione in it. Apparently she was even more important to Neville's future than expected, more than usual for a 'normal girlfriend'.

Minerva nodded and hugged her friend: "Certainly I will."

"And …"

Augusta hesitated for a moment and something about her expression told Minerva that this wasn't going to be something she liked. "Should he interfere with Neville ever again …"

"I understand," Minerva said hoarsely.

"And should there be something," Augusta struggled even more. A shiver ran down Minerva's spine. She had never seen her friend like this. "I never believed the rumors about Albus' part in …"

Minerva shivered. _The rumors_, she mused. The rumors that Albus had been at least partially responsible for what had happened to Neville's parents, responsible for Augusta's son Frank and his wife Alice losing their mind to the torture of Bellatrix Lestrange. That he had wanted to sacrifice them to protect the Potters. She didn't know who had started those rumors, had never believed them, but Albus' political enemies never stopped to spread them.

Augusta's eyes were pure steel now. "Should I ever find clear proof of his involvement in that attack …"

Augusta didn't continue and Minerva didn't need to hear the words. She was unable to respond and after a last understanding nod quietly left the manor. Minerva hoped that her friend was wrong about that. _Please, Merlin let her be wrong_.

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 23__rd__ of January – Lunch Time_

.

"His hair is still neon yellow," Neville sniggered, his eyes resting on Theodore Nott. The young Slytherin looked a bit annoyed, a result of his inability to alter the color of his hairs back to their natural one. Even his fellow Slytherins liked to taunt him for his hair. It was far worse with the other houses, the harshest jokes surprisingly coming from the Hufflepuff girls around Susan Bones. Apparently she somehow learned about the attack on her savior and had been more than a bit upset. Harry once even had to speak with her to prevent more direct reactions from her.

"Poor boy," Harry responded in mock compassion. The coloration had been a real teamwork. Daphne and Hermione had researched a way to bind a color alteration charm into a potion. The twins had used their small private potion lab – its exact location unknown to everybody else – to brew it and Harry had slipped the potion into Nott' drink with a little distraction thanks to Neville and Luna. They had been very content with the result so far. Neither Snape nor Flitwick had been able to counter the charm and told Nott to simply wait for it to wear off.

_Poor boy_, Harry laughed again. According to Hermione the special charm Daphne had used would last at least another three weeks, changing the exact coloration every 72 hours, with none of the chosen colors something you wished to have on your head. He had been impressed. While Hermione had found the way to bind the spell into a potion, it was Daphne's formula to get such a long-lasting and nearly irreversible charm.

It had only been the newest in a series of pranks on the prat. The first one had been the traditional canary cream, meant only as an announcement that the hunting season had been opened. It was the twins' way to say: "We're out for you."

Professor Snape had been astonishingly reluctant to help his student and not even hinted at the charm on Nott's robe, but stayed silent like the rest of the teachers. It had been a marvelous work of the twins – again with a little help of Daphne. Apparently she had been serious about 'we need more laughing' when they announced their support to the twins' joke shop a month ago. While Harry was helping with ideas and plans, it was left to Daphne and Hermione to research the most wonderful things. Apparently Nott's attack on Daphne had acidified Hermione enough to forget her normal rule-abiding behavior for a while.

For a whole day Nott had been running around with varying letterings on his back, invisible to every Slytherin student. Even Daphne hadn't been able to see the result, but the giggles of the other houses had told her enough. Varying from '_Gryffindor what else?_' over '_I snuggle up to Hufflepuffs_' and '_I adore your raven mind_' right up to more drastic jokes regarding his evening amusement with Crabbe and Goyle or his wish to give flowers to Draco and sing serenades under Millicent's window. Someone even told Millicent about the last one and – instead of helping the 'poor boy' – the huge girl had started to make suggestive comments, causing a number of waves of hilarious joy.

In the end Nott had tried to hide in one of the bathrooms, only to avoid the amused stares. Not that it really helped. Peeves – who had been a pranking companion of the twins for years – had been more than able and willing to shoo him away from his hiding spot.

No, these weeks really weren't Nott's favorite time.

.

"He's really cute when he's reading," Hermione whispered, her voice low enough that Harry could pretend he did hear it.

They were still waiting for the owls' arrival, sitting in the Great Hall, reading. Daphne nodded in response and smiled as she watched Harry perusing her notes on Ancient Runes. After only a few weeks he had still much to catch up, but he was making an impressible progress in the subject. With the help of Hermione and her he had been able to follow the current lessons while using the evenings to learn the stuff of the last 16 months.

"At most at the end of the summer break he'll catch up with the stuff," Daphne responded in an equally low voice.

In the beginning Daphne hadn't been certain about Harry choosing this subject and dropping Divination. Yes, in her opinion Divination should only be taught to someone with 'The Talent' – something Harry obviously didn't have. But with Trelawney – Daphne and even Hermione refused to call her Professor – a fraud it had been easy for Harry to get good marks with his contrived prophecies. _"A little doom, a little death and much pain – et voila: Your prophecy is ready." _That even Ron had been able to fetch good marks with this recipe had been enough proof of Trelawney's 'skill', Daphne pondered.

But again Harry had surprised her in a positive manner. He seemed to have a talent and especially a keen interest in Runes. She hoped – no, she expected – that he would surpass her even before they took their OWLs.

"He'll be nearly as good as you, 'Mione," Daphne whispered.

"Perhaps even better," came the return. "He's worse at learning but really good at combining. Probably my marks will be better, because the examiner mostly check 'proven knowledge'. But he'll be better at really using it."

"At least if his interest isn't simply a straw fire."

"We'll have to make sure that it isn't," Hermione smiled at her.

Harry, sensing Daphne's gaze somehow, looked up and smiled shortly but warmly before he returned to his book. This new side – real interest to learn and to have the needed patience for it – had been one thing especially Hermione had been very happy about. If nothing else this would be a big point in favor of Harry's girlfriend in her eyes.

Another surprise had certainly been how much he improved in spell-weaving.

.

_**One week ago – shore of the Black Lake**_

_With Harry's cloak and map it had been easy for Daphne to leave Hogwarts unnoticed. Her mother – disturbed by the news about Griphook's memory alteration and the Headmaster try to get into Hermione's mind – had agreed to meet her from time to time. They would see each other again in February, shortly before Valentine's Day. Daphne blushed as she thought about that day. It would be a Tuesday, but perhaps they would be allowed to visit Hogsmeade nonetheless._

"_I won't tell you," Roxanne ignored her daughter's glare. Since Daphne had realized that Harry had spoken with her about his plans for Valentine's Day, she had harassed her mother for details. Daphne sighed defeated. _

"_And how is my favorite son doing in school?"_

"_Good," Daphne responded: "Much better than expected." _

_Since he used his new wand, Harry had shown a much better control over his spells. His targeting had improved – while still worse than Daphne's he had been able to close the gap. Now she had to work really hard for any victory in their training duels. But at least she was still able to win from time to time. Hermione hadn't been able to do this for two weeks at least. But one the other hand: More than once they had stopped a fight with Hermione because nobody had been really able to breach her defense. _

_Harry normally only won now when he stepped very near to her, the small distance allowing him to attack faster than she was able to react. And Daphne more than once could only win through the use of a hastily changed spell, getting her simply by surprise. It was frustrating sometimes. And now Neville had started to imitate Hermione in her way of fighting. Daphne shuddered._

_At least the Patronus spell training was going well so far. All three had been able to cast a non-corporeal Patronus this weekend after some intense training with Harry – with Neville's surprisingly being the strongest. Now they had to train and see. What would their corporeal Patronus be? Daphne hoped it had something to do with Harry._

"_I hadn't expected this progress," Daphne stated. "I thought his old wand already to be a very strong one. But he tried to use it again – for comparison purposes – and he's far worse with his old wand now. Hermione said that he is even worse with the old wand than he had been a few months ago."_

"_It is a very strong one," Roxanne agreed. "According to my knowledge it belongs to the dozen most powerful wands in Britain. But you remember that it is the twin of 'His' wand?"_

_Daphne nodded, feeling a bit uneasy to think about that._

"_As expected both wands are very strong at destructive magic. And as you know wand and wizard have to share character traits to really resonate. From what I observed Harry – despite his temper – has no really destructive nature. He's willing to fight, but not eager to do so. He would kill to defend his friends, but not without the direst need. And – I hope and assume – he changed in the last months as well. His caring side only went stronger. Anne told me about your common training. This 'protection channeling' is a pure contrast to the wand's character."_

"_But why …" Daphne faltered, not unhappy about the 'distance' between Harry and his old wand, but surprised nonetheless._

"_Why did the wand chose him in the first?"_

_Daphne nodded._

"_I'm not sure that it really did," Roxanne whispered. Daphne stared at her, looking confused. "Yes, the wand reacted and perhaps there was a … a connection in the beginning. But perhaps it was only a reaction to the killing curse that its brother had cast on Harry years ago. Perhaps Ollivander would have been able to find another wand, a better harmonizing wand."_

"_Why should he do such a thing? And remember what Harry told about his first visit and how many wands there had been – fully unusable."_

_Roxanne only stared silently at her daughter, wishing that she'll find the solution herself. For quite some time Daphne pondered about the problem. Then – hesitatingly – she proposed her answer: "He knew – Ollivander knew what kind of wand would be appropriate. He's somehow able to feel those needed characteristics in a person. That's the reason why he's able to find the correct wand in no time in most of the cases."_

_Roxanne nodded and gestured her to continue._

"_If he knows what kind of wand is appropriate, he'll know too which wands will react badly to the wizard. So he was able to give a long row of unwilling wands to him. In the end Harry certainly was grateful that a wand was willing to cooperate. He didn't continue to test others, took the first that somehow worked at least."_

_Roxanne smiled, happy that her daughter was improved in the Slytherin ways of thinking. It wasn't bad to be cunning._

_Daphne narrowed her eyes. "So he wanted to give Harry this wand. But a wand-worker should have no reason to do this. So there had to be another person, ordering him to do so – someone from the Ministry or the school."_

"_We'll never know for certain, Daphne," Roxanne whispered, hugging her daughter. "But I'm certain that we both know who had been the one to order him to do this – especially with a feather from his phoenix being the core of the wand."_

"_Should I tell him?"_

_Roxanne thought about the question for a while. "Not now," she responded. "We'll speak with him about him at another time. It's not really important, I suppose."_

"_Are you sure? I don't like the idea of Harry using his old wand anymore. I would really like to explain to him why I'm against it. What if he uses it in the trial tasks? We assume that a Deatheater is responsible for his participation. There could happen something …"_

"_You're right," Roxanne nodded. "Perhaps you should tell him. But speak with Hermione about it. Together it will be easier to explain, I assume."_

"_I will, Mum." _

.

_**Present**_

.

"… and like the compassionate and concerned Headmistress she always has been, Madam Maxime immediately promised us to help the young girl in need."

Daphne coughed slightly, stopping it as she noticed Luna's death-glare. With a small smile Luna returned to the article she was reading from the newest Quibbler that had arrived only minutes ago.

"Madam Maxime: I promise that the young girl will be able to finish her education even against the wishes of her family. We can't accept this kind of behavior towards one of our students. It had always been the policy of Beauxbatons to be more than simple teachers to our students. We are family."

Daphne's coughing increasing and slowly turned into a barely controlled laughter. Harry tried to help her, patting her back, but he was more than a bit smiling too.

"She's so concerned," purred Neville with mock happiness: "Has always been." He sighed exaggerated, which yielded him a stroke with the Quibbler on his head.

"She was concerned," Luna explained. "She only needed Harry to … to see the truth."

"To see the light," Daphne agreed with glazed eyes.

"The main point is that she listened to him," Hermione interjected and all agreed.

A few days ago Harry and Luna had been in the carriage and announced the article. In the beginning Madam Maxime and especially her Deputy Mistress Ancuille hadn't been impressed. The Quibbler was simply a too small, unimportant and weird newspaper. But then they had told her that the same edition would contain interviews with Harry and the other Champions, something that certainly would cause some interest and a far greater demand this time.

"And then there is always the possibility to send the article to some other Newspapers," Harry had added. "I'm certain there are some French Newspapers with interest in an article like this."

"You wouldn't dare," Mistress Ancuille growled, only to get a "Try me" from Luna in response.

In the end Madam Maxime had proven that she didn't hold her position for nothing. She had agreed to Harry's proposition how to handle the matter and now they only hoped that she would abide to her end of the bargain. Luna had changed the article and written something about the duty of care of a school and how exemplary Madam Maxime implemented this.

"And how's Claire?" Daphne asked.

"Better," Harry smiled. He was thankful that his girlfriend had no qualms about him spending time with the beautiful and three years older French girl. "Since Madam Maxime told her, that she would be able to return to the school – even if her brother decides not to pay for her – she has relaxed. Madam Maxime even offered her a position as a teacher's assistant in the case she has nowhere to go afterwards and intends to help her to find other work."

"And what about the summer?"

"Fleur invited her," Hermione answered the question. Another surprise certainly had been the blossoming friendship between her and Fleur. Seeing this other side of Fleur, this caring side instead of the haughty Veela princess, had changed her first-time impression. And certainly it had been helpful that the twins started to care for Fleur, apparently ordered to do so by their older brother. That Molly was so outspoken against the 'French half-breed' had only increased the twins' wish to stay by her side.

"I hope some other schools will learn something from this article," Harry added thoughtfully. Everyone knew that he meant Hogwarts and how the teachers here had handled similar matters in the past.

"If not: There is always another Quibbler edition ahead," Luna responded and everyone agreed with a smile.

.

"One problem solved," Daphne sighed. "What about the other one?" Her eyes went to Viktor Krum, showing everyone what she was speaking about.

Everyone was silent for a while, even Luna. The January had started so well. Viktor had happily agreed to be interviewed – after he heard that Harry, Fleur and Cedric would be interviewed too – and overall he had been more relaxed around the other Champions.

But then the incident happened around his swimming. It had been a bit weird to watch him swimming in the lake in the middle of winter. Even with a heating charm it certainly was more than a tad uncomfortable, so there had to be a reason. After Harry's conversation with Cedric – getting the tip to open the egg under water – they had been able to solve the riddle. So he had to find something within an hour, something precious belonging to him, perhaps his broom. Harry had been unwilling to share Daphne's idea about 'precious = important person', but still he had tried to speak with the other Champions about it. Cedric and Fleur had agreed that only one especially well-loved item could be meant, perhaps not the most valuable one but one with a great amount of emotions clinging to it.

The only one not willing to speak about it had been Viktor. And not only that: Viktor had been especially hostile towards Harry. Only towards Harry he had behaved like that. Fleur and Cedric had still been able to speak with him, but not about Harry and Viktor's reason for his sudden change of behavior. In the following days the reason slowly became clear. It had been Luna to detect it, to speak about it first: Jealousy.

Yes, Viktor was jealous. Not because of Harry's fame or abilities like Ron had so often been but because of his friendship with Hermione and especially with Daphne. While he hadn't been happy about Harry not willing or able to help him getting Hermione as his ball date, apparently he had now started to follow Daphne with lecherous stares. More than once he had approached her, tried to invite her to some common learning in the library or to share a hot chocolate. Twice Daphne had found flowers on her table and slowly she felt uneasy about his eyes following her everywhere.

"I really don't understand him," Daphne sighed. "He certainly has more than enough fan girls to choose from. Why has he to follow me? I'm neither especially beautiful nor his usual type – according to the rumors in the girls' dorm."

Harry cupped her cheek and whispered: "I know exactly why he's following you. And while I don't like his interest I certainly understand it. You're the most beautiful girl around."

A gagging noise prompted both teenagers to turn around, Daphne happy about the distraction as it allowed her to hide her blush. George stood there, trying to look sick because of the sentimental mush he had heard. Fred on the other side went down on one knee: "He's right about this, most beautiful princess. Every guy would be lucky to have such a wonderful prize at his side." A harrumph behind his back – a voice he knew well enough to belong to Angelina – caused him to continue.

"If my love didn't belong hopelessly and forever to Angelina, Harry would have some serious competition in me. I hope that you aren't too sad that you have no chance against the empress of the sky and of my heart."

Daphne rolled her eyes as Fred kissed the back of her hand. Harry glared with a very small smile and a slender but strong hand grabbed Fred's ear and pulled him up: "In the nick of time, Fred." Giggling they watched the twins and Angelina walk away. "Lamb-like," Daphne grinned. "Whipped," Hermione agreed. Both boys only sighed.

.

_Hogwarts – Party Room – 28__th__ of January Evening_

.

"What did he want?" Harry asked tensely when Hermione and Neville returned from the Headmaster's office. He had been waiting alone as Daphne two hours ago had said something about sketching. With the last weeks packed with lessons about Charms, Potions, Patronus, Occlumency and many other things, she hadn't been able to follow her other passion: Painting. Now she wanted to work on the sketch she intended to give to Millicent and Pansy for their help. Nobody had seen the sketch until now and Harry was anxious to have a look.

That Dumbledore had invited Neville and Professor McGonagall too to his office had been a welcome gesture. But still he didn't trust him. What a change in their relation. Only a year ago he would have trusted Dumbledore with his life without hesitation.

"He wanted to speak about Ginny," Neville answered in Hermione's stead, slumping exhausted onto a chair. He had been silent at the Headmaster's office, leaving the conversation to Hermione, while he tried to read in Dumbledore's face, tried to find the reasons for his sudden interest in Ginny's welfare. As could be expected he hadn't been successful. _If I only was better at this kind of things_, Neville mused.

Harry looked quizzically at Hermione, who only shrugged. She tried to pretend a calm expression, but her eyes betrayed her confusion.

"He begged me to spend time with her. He said that he's concerned about her and hopes that my friendship would help."

"What friendship?" Harry growled. "It's not like we four are best friends with her in the last months."

He was right, naturally. Even after their conversation on their return trip to Hogwarts, there hadn't been much progress. For a few days Ginny had relaxed a bit and from time to time they had spoken with each other about harmless things, mostly school relevant. But then she slowly went back to her former self: Angry, but also depressed from time to time. Hermione knew that Ginny received quite a number of letters, mostly from her mother. She feared that Molly was putting pressure on her daughter again.

Hermione on the other hand got some letters from Charlie. Ginny's elder brother sounded very concerned about his little sister and Hermione agreed with him. Daphne, who had been the most outspoken about helping Ginny, had prompted Hermione to get her some material about psychology and with the help of her parents she had been able to comply.

Harry hadn't been really excited about the matter. It had been one of the few things he had strong arguments with his girlfriend. Even with Balou fully healthy again – the black-white tomcat accompanying them very often together with his lazy friend Crookshanks, both tomcats connected by their gluttony and willingness to endure endless hours of ruffling from the girls – he wasn't willing to forget her betrayal. And he still didn't trust her willingness to accept his friendship with Daphne.

Surprisingly Neville had been nearly as outspoken as Daphne in his wish to help Ginny. For a while Hermione had feared a little crush on Neville's side. After all was Ginny one of the most beautiful girls at Hogwarts. As she mentioned her fear a few days ago to Daphne, it earned her a small slap on the back of her head.

"Silly one," Daphne scolded her. "He has only eyes for you. It's only his caring side."

Hermione wasn't completely certain about that. There was something else. It was like Neville wanted Daphne to help Ginny, like he wanted to 'see her in action', to further her healer side. Why would he behave like this? _Why do I have to over analyze everything?_ Hermione groaned.

"Daphne has tried often enough to help her," Harry broke Hermione's string of thoughts. "And every time Ginny sent her away."

"To be exact Ron sent her away," Neville interjected. "Ginny's too depressed most of the time to really react to anything."

"Ron is all the more outspoken," Hermione agreed. "Last time he even …" Hermione stopped, paling slightly.

"He even what?" Harry asked; his voice a bit too calm to convince Hermione.

"Ron threatened her," Neville answered, ignoring Hermione's glare. He knew that it was a risk to tell Harry something like this but he believed that Harry deserved to know, especially because he couldn't ignore the possibility of Ron really attacking Daphne in a temper tantrum.

"He only wanted to shoo Daphne away from Ginny," Hermione tried to soothe the waves. "I don't really think …" Hermione struggled, gave her boyfriend a questioning look. She knew his opinion about this and hoped that he was wrong. But deep down in her heart she feared that Neville had evaluated the position better than her. "Perhaps she should be more careful," Hermione whispered at last.

Harry nodded with a grim expression. "Like I always said: Leave the younger Weasleys to themselves."

Hermione flinched. Daphne wouldn't like this – not in the least.


	34. Chapter 34 Stupid Boys

_**A/N **_

_Something about __**Valentine's Day**__: In my home country we don't really celebrate that day, so I don't know the 'details' about it. Because the pair is spending a greater part of the day together, I simply assumed that a girl would expect an invitation from her boyfriend a few days beforehand, at least a question along the line "do you want to spend the afternoon with me". If that's wrong, please excuse my artistic freedom._

_This chapter is following the ideas of my dear wife. I hope you'll like it._

_About __**Daphne**__: There had been some comments about my description of her. I don't know who started to make her a blondie, but is there anything official about her hair color? Within my recollection there is not a single sentence in the books about her appearance._

.

**Stupid Boys**

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 11th of February – Breakfast _

.

"Why are all boys so stupid?"

Blaise hastily looked down to avoid Daphne's irate glare. With a thoughtful smile Tracey watched her dark-haired friend stabbing her scrambled eggs with her fork using way too much force. Obviously her friend hadn't eaten and slept enough the last two weeks and slowly it was showing now.

"With more reasoning they would be called girls," she joked softly. Her boyfriend shortly mock grimaced in her direction but Daphne simply ignored Tracey's attempt to calm her.

Whirling around her fork – a piece of egg still impaled – Daphne continued to growl: "Take Nott for example. Since he's too much of a coward to face my wand, he started to make life difficult for me: Bumping into me in the corridors, 'accidently' pushing my books on the ground or spilling ink on my parchment. He's such a child. Perhaps I should send his father a cane as a reminder about his duties to teach his son proper behavior."

"Perhaps you should speak with Harry about it," Blaise dared to remark, seeing Tracey's small head-shaking too late.

"To have him make another fuss," Daphne asked with a deep frown. "It was difficult enough last time to convince him to only prank Nott and not hex him into oblivion."

"Perhaps you should have allowed him to do so," Blaise continued, still unconvinced. He was still angry about Nott, perhaps even more because Tracey and he had been there too late to help Daphne. That Snape had allowed Nott – the main culprit – to stay at Hogwarts while his two cronies had been sent away had been like a slap in the face. "Nott certainly deserved it. I've never seen a greater coward."

"Yes," Daphne agreed surprisingly meekly. "But Harry already has far too much on his plate this year. He doesn't need a month of detention with Snape for attacking a Slytherin."

"You want to protect him," Tracey commented and patted Daphne's arm. "It's understandable."

Daphne was still angry. The last two weeks had grated on her nerves and this morning the result became obvious. "And then think about Viktor 'I'm-stalking-you' Krum, Merlin's gift to the womankind." She spat the name with open disgust. "Does he understand a 'No' – softly whispered or yelled into his stupid face? Does he get the hint, when I hex him as an answer to his condescending invitation to join him 'for some dessert'? No, he's still stalking me, near me every day, not only annoying me but my friends too and especially Harry. Last week I had to tear Harry away to prevent a brawl between them. Harry's angry because I tried to avoid a fight and Viktor somehow interpreted it as some kind of weird gesture of interest on my side. AAARGH."

Her yell of anger caused some interest from other Slytherins, but they hastily turned around when Daphne started to hiss in their direction, her eyes full of fury. Since she off-handedly defeated Nott in a DADA duel, humiliating the haughty boy with a show of her improved wand-working – under the laughter of most Gryffindors and even a few Slytherins – everyone knew better than to mess with her.

"I wonder," Blaise interjected "what Bell is thinking about his behavior."

Daphne grimaced. "She's not very happy about it." Katie Bell, Viktor's date from the Yule Ball, had been the most likely candidate to become Viktor's girlfriend – at least for a while. Since Viktor had started to stalk her, Daphne more than once noticed the fiery girl glaring at him – but sometimes at her too. _Like I would lead him on_, Daphne growled. Katie's reaction had been especially hurting because Daphne had adored the beautiful and athletic Gryffindor chaser for years, envied her for having the opportunity to play Quidditch.

"It's a bit weird that he pursues you so openly despite you being Harry's girlfriend," Tracey wondered.

"It seems not to interest him very much."

With a grimace Daphne watched some groups of students leaving the Hall. They would start to go to Hogsmeade now, this Saturday being the last opportunity to buy something for Valentine's Day. Daphne didn't want to speak about it, but Valentine's Day and Harry's behavior about it – or better his lack of behavior – was the main reason for her mood today. Only three days to go and still he hadn't asked her. Yes, she was certain that he wanted to spend the day with her. Hadn't he even spoken with her mother about it? But still a girl wanted to be asked.

And with their mounting number of quarrels in the last weeks he certainly couldn't simply assume that she would say yes. He had annoyed her more than enough with the return of his temper tantrums. They had solved the riddle for the second task and even found a way for him to breath underwater. But still he was – as could be expected – very tense about the whole matter. And this showed in his everyday behavior, caused him to lose his composure more often than Daphne would have liked. And they hadn't kissed for … far too long. She didn't even remember the last opportunity. _I want my Harry back_, Daphne groaned.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have told Harry about my suspicion that 'something precious belonging to you' could mean a person. Perhaps he would have been less tense about the second task."

"He's still assuming that they want to hide his broom?" Blaise asked.

Tracey sniggered. "That's a completely new meaning for 'his precious stick', isn't it?"

Daphne growled, but a little smile showed on her lips: "Precious broom, my ass."

Tracey showed an expression of mock disgust because of her friend's choice of words while it was Blaise' turn to snigger.

Daphne went silent for a moment as she watched the Weasleys leave the Gryffindor table. The twins and Ron were still not really on speaking terms and Ginny stayed always close to Ron, her head down. A few days ago Daphne had spoken with Neville about her, coming to no conclusion about how to continue.

.

"_I would really like to help her, Neville. Perhaps it's my healer instinct as Mum suspects."_

"_Or you're simply empathizing because of her feelings," Neville smiled softly. "I think she still likes Harry very much. Sure, much of her past behavior is because of her family and because it's about 'the-boy-who-lived'. But I think she really likes him too. And now she's hurting, realizing that she lost a friend – or even friends. Hermione is still distant to her, never speaking with her if Ron's around. That the twins are on speaking terms with all of us certainly rubs salt into the wound."_

"_That may be a reason too. Harry doesn't understand. He wants to be polite to her but nothing more. He doesn't see a reason to stay close to her, to do something right now. But … I don't know, Neville. There's something about her … I think she really needs a confident. With all the pressure from her family and no one – not even the other Gryffindors – liking her in the moment, it has to be real hard for her."_

"_Luna is the only one," Neville agreed "who is still something like a friend to her. But I'm not sure that Luna is the right person to speak with about matters of the heart. But" Neville hesitated for a moment. "I hate to ask, but: Is she worth it? After all her behavior … is she worth that you have fights with Harry about her? Perhaps he's right and you should simply wait."_

.

There had been a last reason, one she hadn't told Neville and not even Hermione, who had slowly become her most trusted friend, even more than Tracey before. Hidden within Ginny's Aura Daphne had noticed tiny traces, shrouds belonging to charms used on her in the past and perhaps even in the last weeks. To get a clearer picture she would have to examine her intensely. But this wasn't going to happen with Ron blocking every attempt to get near Ginny. And with Harry's temper and Hermione's protectiveness she wasn't sure how to initiate a conversation about the matter. Daphne was concerned about the petite girl, very concerned.

Tracey nudged Daphne and nodded towards the Hall's exit where Harry was just leaving. A few seconds before he had stared at his girlfriend, struggled to go to her and to say something. But he noticed clearly that she was still angry with him. Harry assumed it was because of Viktor and perhaps Ginny. He sighed and left the Hall. He would wait for Neville in the entrance hall.

With clasped hands Hermione and Neville walked over to Daphne, showing an expression more uncaring than they felt so near to the other snakes.

"Are you ready, Daphne?" Hermione asked with a smile, nodding towards Tracey and Blaise. "Remus is certainly already waiting for us."

"Remus," Tracey asked.

"Professor Lupin," Daphne answered. "He's accompanying us today. A bit of manly support, you know." For a short moment a grin appeared on her face. Daphne tried hard to suppress her regret that she wouldn't spend the day with Harry.

"And Tonks will be with Harry and I," Neville grinned, earning him a glare from his girlfriend.

"It's okay as long as your eyes stay on her face and not her other … assets."

"I have no idea what assets you could be speaking about … honey," Neville's grin only broadened.

"You're way too cheeky today, Mister Longbottom," Hermione glared, inwardly happy that they had been successful at diverting Daphne. A single glance at her friend had told her enough about how much Daphne needed some relaxation.

Knowing how to stop her Neville leaned forward and kissed Hermione, not very passionately but it was far more than a little peck.

"Boo! That's disgusting. Can't you kiss the mud … Muggleborn somewhere else, Longbottom?" Draco's irritated voice interrupted the show of emotion. Apparently he was still in the learning phase not to use that special insult near his girlfriend, but Neville's 'improved self' caused him to be at least a tiny bit more polite than two months ago, especially with the Longbottom crest on her shoulder telling everybody that to insult Granger was an insult to House Longbottom too. Still it was apparently not enough.

"Shut up, Draco," Astoria scolded him before Hermione or Daphne had a chance to react. "Behave if you hope for any snogging session on Valentine's Day."

The Greengrass sisters shared an understanding smile and with a glare at the pouting Draco and a wave to her little sister, Daphne followed Hermione to the exit, to Hogsmeade.

.

_Hogsmeade_

.

"Simply ignore him," Neville tried to soothe his friend's spirit. Harry had been tense since they left Hogwarts and even Tonks' humorous twaddle hadn't improved his mood. It wasn't helping watching how Viktor left Honeydukes, a big bag in his hand and mouthing 'for Daphne' in Harry's direction. For a moment Neville had feared that Harry would start a fight with the bigger boy in the middle of Hogsmeade.

Not that he was afraid about Harry losing such a fight. In contrary he was quite certain how such a duel would end. But like Daphne he hoped to keep Harry away from trouble, especially now with only a few more days to go until Valentine's Day.

"Does Daphne know about your plans for Valentine's Day," Neville started, hoping to distract his friend from that awful Durmstrang student.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose not – haven't spoken with her about it."

Neville looked thoughtful at him and nodded slowly. As an afterthought he asked: "But she knows that you intend to spend the evening with her?"

Confused Harry stared at him: "Naturally. She's my girlfriend. How else should I spend the evening?" He wasn't all too certain about the girlfriend part but he really hoped that he hadn't messed it up too much with his fits of rage.

"No, I mean: Have you asked her?" Neville continued.

"Certainly you did, didn't you, Harry?" Tonks added. When Harry still seemed to be confused, she explained: "You said something along the line: Daphne, I would really love to spend the afternoon and evening of Valentine's Day with you. Would you do me the honor to accompany me?"

"But," Harry paled, hesitated. Had he fumbled again? "But why … I mean: She's my girlfriend. I thought it would be quite natural that I want to spend the day with her." After a moment he added in a whisper: "I can't imagine spending that day without her."

Had he annoyed her too much? He had seen her expression this morning, watched how angry she had stabbed her scrambled eggs and hissed at the other Slytherins. For a moment a cold hand gripped his heart as he thought about not being able to spend the day with her. He had wanted to make up for his behavior in the last weeks. It hadn't been her fault that Viktor behaved like a git. She certainly never goaded him on.

"You should really ask her, Harry," Tonks smiled. "I'm certain she's thinking and feeling the same you do. But a girl wants to be asked. A girl wants to be told how much she matters to you."

"Okay," Harry nodded after a moment, smiling weekly. "I'll do that. Tomorrow afternoon, when we're meeting for our Patronus lesson I'll ask her."

.

"How's your training with Moody going?" Tonks asked after a while. They had been at Honeydukes, Zonko's and the local book shop. Harry even found a nice scarf pin crafted from silver and turquoise he intended to put away for a day he needed a small gift for Daphne. Now they were sitting at the Three Broomsticks, drinking a butterbeer and planning what to do until they had to return to Hogwarts.

Once they had seen Remus, Daphne and Hermione. Hermione had waved in their direction and Daphne sent a small smile towards Harry – small but enough to warm his heart. Not all was lost.

"I heard you started additional DADA lessons with him." Tonks had been one of Moody's favorite students in her Auror training. She really liked the grumpy old bastard. 'Constant vigilance' – his motto had been helpful more than once already in her short career as an Auror.

Harry sighed. Neville silently watched his friend. They had spoken about those lessons and he knew how Harry thought about them. "I don't like those lessons," he astonished Tonks. "I'm not certain that I should continue with them."

This really surprised her. While quite exhausting Moody's lessons had always been her favorite ones and she had expected Harry to be the same, especially with him knowing that there were concrete dangers waiting for him in his near future.

"He's too eager to use excessive force," Harry explained after a moment. "You know better than I how the Ministry thinks about the use of 'damaging' spells – more or less any spell other than disarming ones and stunners. And the Headmaster's opinion is about the same, perhaps even harsher. He's always expecting anybody to turn 'to the dark side' if you use something like a Reducto in a fight."

"I know," Tonks sighed. "And I understand their reasoning. But you can't be too reluctant to use force. Especially in a larger fight you have to knock your enemies out. You can't risk stunning them only to have their comrades cast an Enervate seconds later."

"I know," Harry growled, adding a mumbled "Sorry" after a moment. "I know … but still … it has to be the last resort. I simply don't think that you have to use only those spells." Not looking at Tonks Harry continued with a low voice: "He's trying to teach me cutting spells. He's transforming objects into animals and commands me to use those spells on them."

Tonks didn't like this news in the slightest. It made sense to really train the spells this way, to allow Harry to see the effect they have on a creature without hurting a real animal. But still he was only a fourteen-year-old boy. This seemed too much too fast. And if his training was troubling Harry it could only be counterproductive in the long run.

"Last week he repeated that spider lesson." Now Neville pricked up his ears. "But this time he ordered me to use an Imperio on the spider."

Tonks paled. This was more than a bit overhasty. To advance like this could very easy lead to an estrangement between Harry and Moody. Did the Headmaster know about this? Tonks assumed that he had asked Moody to start these lessons. They had been friends for decades and with the current quarrel between Harry and Dumbledore it only made sense to send Moody ahead.

"I'll speak with him about that," Tonks answered and Harry relaxed a bit, smiling weakly. Tonks hadn't the heart to tell him that she feared not to be successful in the matter. Moody had always been very headstrong and while he liked Tonks she was far from being a respected equal to him. Not that she saw herself like that after only a few years as an Auror.

Another reason for her question about the training had been her visit to Hogwarts the evening before. She had spent some hours with Moody and Minerva, exchanging stories about the past. To be exact Moody and Minerva had exchanged and she had been listening. It had been nice but also a bit weird. Moody was still the Moody she had known in her training. But concurrently he had been not. He hadn't used his old nickname for her. He had forgotten a number of training accidents – accidents she had been renowned for because of her feared clumsiness. He had been drinking from his bottle a few times and left far earlier than expected.

No – her old mentor had changed. She had said something about it to Minerva after he left and Minerva had agreed.

"_Did you know that Alastor had some serious problems a few years ago? After he lost his eye he was using far too many Painkiller and Dreamless sleep potions. For a while we feared that he would become addicted to them. He had been able to get away from them after a while, after some serious discussions with Poppy."_

Tonks hadn't known that. Could it be possible that Moody had started to use Painkillers again? It would explain the constant use of his hip bottle. She didn't dare to ask him, still less to open the bottle without his knowledge. But Minerva had promised to watch him in the future. Hopefully she was able to help him.

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 12__th__ of February – Breakfast_

.

_Sunday morning, what a beautiful morning_, Harry pondered. He had got up very early this morning, quite unusual for him as he liked to sleep far into Sunday if he was allowed to. If no Quidditch training was awaiting him or a nagging Hermione urging him to do his assignments. But he was simply too happy today, too eager to see her, to make up for being a git.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table together with Neville and Hermione, he more or less ignored his friends and went through the words he wanted to say again and again. Many expressions – some thoughtfully, some a bit angry but most of them of the happy sort – became visible on his face while he mumbled all kind of apologies and love declarations. Hermione and Neville had long stopped to speak with each other, long abandoned trying to integrate Harry in their conversation. Now they were watching him, delighted to notice the change from his dire and depressed mood the evening before.

Hermione had confirmed the statement of Neville and Tonks that Daphne certainly expected some kind of invitation beforehand, some kind of forewarning that she had to look especially nice on Tuesday and if a dress or something more causal would be appropriate to his plans. Harry felt a bit stupid not to have thought about that. He planned to spend the day with Daphne in that secret room Mother had told him about. So Daphne could dress especially nice. Neville on the other hand had organized something in one of the greenhouses, a location more suitable for something less fancy.

"_And tell her that you aren't mad at her because of Viktor," Hermione had told him. "And a little love declaration wouldn't hurt too. I'm certain she needs it after the last weeks."_

His legs dangling happily, his fingers tapping on the table in the rhythm of an unhearable song, Harry watched the entrance. Certainly she would … there.

The door opened again and – together with her friends Tracey and Blaise – Daphne entered the hall. She wore her long black hair in a plain ponytail this morning, apparently no makeup and looked a bit exhausted as if she hadn't enough sleep last night. Tracey was babbling something and Daphne only nodded from time to time, obviously not very interested in the issue or simply too exhausted to care.

"Way to go, Harry," Neville smiled.

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious Harry hesitated. "Shouldn't I wait for the afternoon?" He stared at the Slytherin table, a table full of snakes and his friends knew without asking that he didn't like the idea of speaking with Daphne in front of her housemates.

"I'm sure that she'll appreciate the gesture if you speak with her now."

Harry nodded, grabbed the edge of the table, breathed deeply a few times to calm his nerves. Slowly he stood up and shot his friends a last unsecure smile. Just as he started to leave his place, Harry saw another figure walking straight towards the Slytherin table, towards Daphne. More running than walking, he followed the Durmstrang Champion, but only reached the table some seconds after him. Viktor just gave Daphne an envelope. He smirked in Harry's direction and mouthed 'too late', while Daphne – confusion and barely controlled disgust about Krum's invitation on her face – watched both boys.

But Harry was unable to see her face, didn't register that he only had to stay quiet and to watch the show. He only saw his rival, his smirk and that lousy envelope. Without a word he fetched the letter from Daphne's grasp and waved it in Viktor's direction. "What's this?"

"What do you think it could be?" Viktor grinned, seeing from the edge of his eyes that Daphne was turning angry now, angry not only at Viktor but at Harry too.

The Slytherins around were long forgotten by Harry as he opened the letter, more or less tore the envelope away, fully ignoring Daphne's outcry. As expected it was an invitation for Daphne to spend Valentine's Day with Viktor. In a fury Harry hurled the letter at Viktor's face. His fast seeker reflexes allowed the Durmstrang student to fetch it and – in an exaggerated gesture – he put the letter in Daphne's hands again. "Milady."

Again Harry fetched the letter, this time scratching Daphne's hands without noticing it. He only saw a kind of red fog now, clouding everything. "You can't go with Daphne," he growled. Carefully he ripped the letter to pieces and threw the remains at Viktor's face like confetti. "Daphne's with me."

"Harry James Potter," her voice had the effect of ice-water on him. He only had to look into Hermione's face – his friends having followed him in the meantime – to know that he was in deep trouble now. "It is my and only my decision how I spend my time. This was my letter, not yours. If you intend to play the possessive git, I really have better ideas how to spend the Tuesday evening."

Harry turned around and stared at her, only now realizing how his behavior must have appeared to her. He had wanted to make up for the last weeks, not show her again one of his temper tantrums like a seven-year-old. "Daphne, I'm …"

She stopped him with a single gesture: "Not now, Harry, not now." Daphne turned around and walked away, leaving behind her stunned boyfriend. Tracey and Blaise followed her hastily. Viktor's snigger was certainly not helpful, the laughter of the snakes neither.

"Shut up," Harry growled.

"Or what, wonder boy?" Viktor grinned.

"Leave her alone," Harry growled again, now really furious. "She's my girlfriend."

"Doesn't seem so in the moment," Viktor grinned. "Or what do you think, Draco?"

Draco – who had been sitting not far away with Astoria – only grinned back: "Apparently Daphne starts to get back her senses. Who would want to be Potter's girlfriend?" Astoria watched the exchange in stunned silence. She was so angry, but to her own surprise not mad at Harry but at Viktor and Draco. Wasn't it cute how vicious Harry was defending her sister? And she felt a bit sad for her. Daphne didn't deserve all this.

Suddenly Harry had his wand in his hand, not yet directed at Viktor but ready to use. "Leave her alone, Viktor."

Most of the Slytherins hastily shuffled aside, made room for Viktor and Harry, as the elder boy draw his own wand too.

"Stop, that's madness," Hermione yelled. Harry glanced in her direction and saw to his relief how Neville pulled her away.

A fast move – Harry dodged and a red light, a stunner, nearly missed him.

"Give him hell!" Draco yelled while he took shelter behind the table.

Two spells, a stunner and a disarming spell, Harry blocked with a hastily conjured Protego. His reflexes kicked in now. Dodging, casting further shields and moving fast he was a target impossible to hit for Viktor. Then he started to attack himself. But he didn't intend to simply win. Harry wanted to destroy that smirk on Viktor's face, wanted to ridicule him in front of everybody. Every time he dodged a spell he cast a small stinging hex himself. Some missed, but most of them hit his target. Now the long grueling sessions against Daphne and Hermione paid off.

These small hexes weren't really hurting Viktor, but slowly they started to unsettle him. This couldn't be. This boy was only fourteen. It should be a cake walk to defeat him. Another hex hit Viktor and he lashed out with a number of cutting curses. _No more playing around._ Two of them Harry absorbed with his shield before he had to dodge a third. He grinned in Viktor's direction to show how little he cared, as a yell of pain told him that the last curse had hit one of the spectators.

"Astoria!"

In another situation Harry would have wondered about the tone of real concern in Draco's voice, but now he only felt a mix of anger and regret. It was his fault. If he hadn't pulled his wand, then this duel hadn't started. Because of him Daphne's little sister – no: His little sister – had been hurt.

The first teachers entered the hall, now, far too late. But Harry didn't wait. Remembering his lessons with Anne he erected a new shield, far more powerful than before. He allowed his emotions – his rage towards Viktor and his wish to protect Astoria from further harm – to pour into his spell. _No more dodging_, Harry pondered.

A bronze colored, nearly massive shield absorbed every stunning, disarming or cutting spell Viktor send his way while the elder boy was barely able to avoid Harry's spells. As Professor McGonagall nearly had reached the fight – her tries to stop it from afar had been ignored by both boys – Harry banished a bench into Viktor's legs. The elder boy lost his stance and was unable to avoid the next spells. An Expelliarmus sent his wand flying away and a medium-powered Reducto – not strong enough to really injure him but certainly not a harmless spell – sent Viktor crashing against the wall. Knocked out he sank to the ground, leaving behind a stunned audience.

Shocked Minerva looked around, noticed the injured Astoria and the senseless Viktor Krum. Wordless Harry offered her his wand and she pocketed it angrily. With cold stares at the students around, obviously furious that nobody had stopped this fight, she ordered some students to take Astoria and Viktor to the Hospital Wing. "Follow me to the Headmaster, Mister Potter."

.

"Greengrass!"

Her yell didn't stop Daphne for a second. She was on her way to the Hospital Wing, had started to run towards it instantly after hearing from Pansy and Millie about the fight, about 'lil Tory being hurt by that Durmstrang ass.

"Greengrass!"

She could hear fast steps behind her, but chose to ignore them.

"Argh!"

She yelled in pain as a hand grabbed her hair and pulled her to a stop. It was a fuming Katie Bell that now shouted at her: "Stop it, Greengrass. Stop to lead my boyfriend on. He's …"

"Shut up!" Daphne yelled back. "I've no time for this nonsense now." She tried to turn around but Katie stopped her by gripping her arm. The other girl was older, larger and stronger, so she had no other chance than to convince her.

"Bell, I never led him on. I said no to him, more than once. Merlin, I don't even like him. And now leave me alone, I have to go to the Hospital Wing."

But Katie was pure anger now, not all of it directed at Daphne, but the girl being her nearest target to steam off some of it. "You must have done something. He would never leave me without a word and start to go after you despite Harry being your boyfriend. Isn't one boy enough for you, you bitch?"

It was neither the senseless accusation nor the insult that prompted Daphne to retaliate but the simple urge to see her sister. A cutting curse had hit her, Pansy had told, a damned dark cutting curse. She had to see her, to help her. It was her fault that the boys had fought. If she'd stayed, this would never have happened.

Shocked Katie experienced the reaction, a kind of reaction she hadn't expected from the well-reared girl. She didn't curse back; she didn't struggle, scratch or started to tear Katie's hairs. Instead Daphne made a fist and punched the tip of her lowest rib. Instantly Katie lost all breath and let Daphne's arm go. The younger girl made a few more punches, not very strong but deadly accurate. One of them hit Katie's solar plexus, deciding the fight for this time. But now Daphne was angry enough to make a last full-force punch. This time her fist connected with Katie's left eye, sending her instantly to the ground.

Leaving the heavily breathing girl to her friends – especially the twins who had fruitlessly tried to hold her back – and ignoring the throbbing pain in her hand, Daphne whirled around and hurried away.

.

"I have to help her, Poppy."

"You don't, Daphne," the Nurse tried to calm her with little to no success. "She's sleeping now. The curse is bandaged and I've given her a blood replenishing potion. In a week she'll be alright again."

Daphne stared at her sister. She was so pale. Draco sitting at her side, his face not showing any of his usual smirk, had been a surprise. He seemed to struggle between accusing her and staying quiet. Draco knew that he was to blame too for this. He had been eager to see Krum defeating Potter, eager to see the damned golden boy on the ground. And while he had taken shelter behind the table, he hadn't watched what Astoria was doing. _I should have protected her_, he mused full of regret.

"Please let me help her, Poppy."

"I don't know how, Daphne. We simply have to wait."

With a sigh Daphne pulled her wand and cast a few diagnosis charms on her sister. "There are still remains of the curse lingering. And the cut isn't closed."

"I know," Poppy answered a bit miffed that Daphne didn't really trust her abilities. "We have to wait for her magical core to destroy the last remains of the curse before I'm able to close the cut. It is a really dark hex; I hadn't expected a student to know something like this."

"It's taught at Durmstrang," Draco interjected gloomily. He had spoken about it with Viktor a few weeks ago. Now he felt dumb that he had been jealous about it.

"I could help her. My magical core could help her fight the curse. You would be able to heal her earlier. And with two bodies connected you could use more healing and blood replenishing potions."

Poppy paled. In a way Daphne was right. One body could only endure a certain amount of potions. To be able to administer the double of it would be really helpful. But there was only one way to do this. "Do you mean …"

"Yes, the spell we've spoken about. Sanguis Familiae – it would allow me to connect my magical core and my blood circulation to her. Please, Poppy, you know it isn't dangerous, only … unusual."

Draco listened intensely. He never heard about that spell, but that wasn't a surprise. It sounded like something nobody in his family would use – perhaps aside from his mother. She had always been a bit soft and too caring for a real Malfoy.

"It's more than a bit unusual, Daphne. And hazard-free it is only in the lowest form cast. And even that would force you to stay in bed for several days."

"I want to do that, Poppy. I can't simply wait. Because of me they fought, because of me she's hurt. I simply have to help."

Poppy knew that Daphne was a bit exaggerating now. The injury, while severe, wasn't life-threatening. With a bit of patience she could simply wait for the healing to run its course. But she understood Daphne's wish to help and like she said the spell was fairly harmless used in this way. To stay in bed for a few days was certainly not the worst that could happen to her, especially with both boys in detention for a while. They all would have a chance to cool off a bit.

"Alright, we'll use the spell. Mister Malfoy, please leave us for a while. We'll have to prepare Miss Greengrass."

.

_Hogwarts – Greenhouse – 14__th__ of February – Late Afternoon_

.

Soft music was in the air. Daphne had prepared this a week ago, days before the incident. Neville sighed. It was a nice afternoon. Blaise and Tracey had helped Hermione and him to prepare for their Valentine's Day and both had tried hard to really enjoy the day.

He had started with a flower this morning – a rare species of Orchid – and the promise to care for it. Hermione had smiled, knowing full well that not flower, especially not a delicate one like this, would endure long in her care.

She wore beige pants and a dark-red embroidered blouse, simultaneously chic and practical enough to sit in the greenhouse at the table he had prepared with Madam Sprout's allowance. Ciddy was serving the food with much enthusiasm and more than once they had to send her away for a while to have some moments alone.

"Everything will turn out alright."

Neville knew that Hermione didn't fully believe this; that she only wanted to soothe him. But he only had their faces in his mind.

Astoria and Daphne, both equally pale – as hoped the curse had been destroyed after a day of connection between the sisters and Madam Pomfrey had been able to close the wound. According to her the state of the girls was far better than they looked and they would be able to leave the Hospital after another two to three days.

Harry, shocked, full of remorse – as expected both boys had been sentenced to detention for the whole week. And both had lost five points to their tournament score as well – not that this would have been of any interest to Harry. There hadn't been a Howler from Roxanne – a stark contrast to the behavior that could be expected from a Molly Weasley or an Augusta Longbottom – but Harry certainly knew how disappointed his Mother was. He hadn't been able to enter the Hospital Wing in daylight, not brave enough to visit her when she was awake. Only at night – as Neville had noticed – he had been gone under his cloak.

Ginny, destroyed even more than before – Neville had been shocked to see the Valentine's Day Card she had sent to Harry. How could she? Did she really expect any other reaction than the one she got? Harry had been furious and nearly slapped her. Ginny had been broken and slowly Neville understood Daphne's reasoning about Ginny's state of mind, especially after the twins told him that the card had been the idea of their mother.

Katie – she had been the only silver lining in these days. Poppy had treated her shut swollen eye and other bruises. After that, Daphne told later, she went to her bed and apologized. It remained to be seen how Katie's relation to Viktor would be after all of this. Neville only hoped that she would recognize the git he was at last.

"Everything will turn out alright."

Hermione whispered again before she ended his gloomy pondering with a kiss.

.

_Same Time –Somewhere in Hogwarts_

.

He really liked it when his plans went off smoothly. A few charms, a single potion and a few well-placed words had been all to burst the small happy family. He had been very careful especially with the charms. Sometimes it was better to cast the spell on an area or object instead of on the person, he had learned. The same effect but less hints. He had to be really careful around the Greengrass-bitch.

The injury of her younger sister had been an unexpected but very welcome bonus. If only the curse had been worse. She blamed Harry for the injury and after the use of that rare family blood spell she wasn't even able to spend time with him. How nice.

He had been impressed to watch Potter beat Viktor Krum so easily. The training with Moody was really showing a positive effect. But perhaps he should urge Moody to relax a bit. His comment – _nice fight, Potter, but don't refrain so much from using real spells next time_ – apparently made a negative impact on the boy.

He rubbed his hands. Yes, phase one had gone very well so far. Now he had to wait for the second task to begin phase two. Perhaps he should use the spare time for a little chat with Miss Skeeter.


	35. Chapter 35 The Second Task (1)

_**A/N**_

_I'll delay the __**date of the second task**__ by 1 day. The 24__th__ is a Friday and I think the 25__th__ would be better, allowing more spectators and less interruption to the lessons._

_All those who think that __**Harry's behavior**__ was a bit immature in the previous chapter, please remember: He's still a jealous 14-year-old teenager. He has every right to behave a bit immature from time to time. And I know some "matures" my age that wouldn't react better than he did – not to mention the charms at work._

_I mostly omitted a __**description of the actual task**__. It follows the events in the book. Here you'll only see the differences at the start and end of it. The part about the goggles is from another story. To my regret I don't remember where I've seen that idea._

.

**The Second Task (1)**

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 24__th__ of February – Lunch Time_

.

"I never said anything like this."

Pansy's shrill voice disturbed the silence around the four friends, especially when she smacked her newspaper on the table, thereby nearly toppling Daphne's cup of tea.

It was the day before the second task of the tournament and they were sitting at the Gryffindor table, Daphne together with Neville and – a few seats away – Harry with Hermione. More than once Daphne and Harry sent hidden glances at each other but the whole time they hadn't spoken a single word.

_The last week had been awful_, Hermione groaned, _I don't need another one of those. After the task Neville and I should imprison them in a broom closet until we hear some intense snogging noises._

On Friday evening one week ago Madam Pomfrey had allowed the Greengrass girls to leave the Hospital wing. Apparently they were fully healed again aside from the order 'to be at ease' at the weekend. Hermione and Neville had been impressed with Daphne's use of the Sanguis Familiae Spell and it had been obvious that the connection between the two sisters had only deepened because of the events.

Harry had apologized to Astoria and the girl had accepted it gracefully. _Despite the events she even seemed to like Harry more than before_, Hermione had wondered. She had even caught Astoria watching Daphne and Harry a few times with a soft smile on her lips.

But still Harry and Daphne weren't really on speaking terms. It was clearly visible that both struggled with their remorse. Both wanted to reconcile with each other. But both were too stubborn to begin or perhaps only too contrite.

Harry had spent the afternoons mostly with Hermione preparing for the second task, his bad mood at least helpful in that regard. He missed Daphne at his side. Hermione was a patient and good teacher but still he liked Daphne's way to teach better – especially her rewards. Hermione had told him that she daily asked about his progress, that Daphne still cared for him.

This news had helped him when Viktor started to harass her again. He had appeared at the table more than once since Saturday, ignoring Daphne's verbal rejections and Harry's angry glares. Apparently he counted on the fact that Harry wouldn't start a second fight, wouldn't endanger another bystander. And equally apparent he didn't realize that this behavior only cost him his very last sympathy points, especially after Astoria's remark that he never apologized to her. Viktor only stopped this awful behavior after the intervention of Daphne's friends.

.

_**Two Days ago**_

Two days ago Viktor had been on the go again, intending to woo her – or better _woe_, as Daphne once commented. Striding as proud as a peacock, smirking in Harry's direction while he had a red rose in his hand – one of the roses Daphne had started to hate – he apparently had intended to start one of his awful "Lady of my heart" monologues.

Instead of looking at him Daphne had only watched Harry's reaction. She knew that Hermione had begun to pocket Harry's wand before each meal to help him stay calm. She had noticed how much he had to struggle not to start another fight again. Perhaps she should allow him – no, that was a selfish thought, to put Harry in trouble only to allow her to avoid this prat.

But two days something had changed. Sending this annoying smile towards Daphne and watching for any attack from Harry, Viktor had been taken completely by surprise when Hermione intercepted him by stepping between Daphne and 'her gigolo'.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry was proud about the quickness and accuracy of her spell, watching with a broad smile how Viktor lost his wand. Angrily the Durmstrang Champion wanted to physically attack her but stopped as he noticed Neville's expression and his wand targeted at him, especially at his groin. Hermione didn't flinch, didn't make a single step back despite Krum's intimidating frame. Instead she glared at him, her face an iron mask of determination and disgust:

"Apparently, Mister Krum, you have some severe problems with your hearing capabilities. I suggest a visit to our Hospital Wing. The lady said 'no'. She said 'no' a week ago, she did it yesterday and will likewise do it tomorrow. From now on, Mister Krum, you'll stay away from our friend Daphne. You won't speak to her, you won't leer in her direction and sure enough you won't send her flowers or other presents, until she clearly shows interest in changing the situation. Every time you behave against this directive, there will be retribution."

Completely ignoring the seething with rage boy Hermione turned to Daphne: "I hope this was in your interest, Daphne?"

Shocked by Hermione's determination and glaring anger Daphne could only nod.

"Good," Hermione smiled shortly: "On your way, Mister Krum. Perhaps you should use your spare time to prepare for the second task. It is still possible for you to finish runner-up." She hadn't to explain whom she expected to be the winner of the tournament.

Viktor glared at her before he pocketed his own wand, surprising the careful observing Hermione as he made no move to attack her. The reason of this behavior became obvious as he addressed someone standing behind her.

"And you'll allow this to happen without a word, allow a student to attack me without provocation?"

Hermione groaned inwardly as she realized that Madam Sprout had been around the whole time, watching the exchange.

"Certainly I do not. Miss Granger, I'm deeply disappointed." She stopped Hermione's friends when they tried to explain the situation. "Pranking other students is something I would expect from the twins but not from you. Five points from Gryffindor for spell use in the corridors."

Hermione blinked. _Prank, spell use in the corridor_ – she certainly had expected another kind of punishment and according to Krum's expression so did he. "You can't be serious …"

"You're right again, Mister Krum. I completely forgot: Mister Longbottom … ten points to Gryffindor for standing by your friend's side like a loyal Hufflepuff. It's too bad that you don't belong to my house." Neville couldn't hide his grin as he thanked his favorite teacher.

"Now be on your way, Mister Krum. And don't forget Miss Granger's directive regarding Miss Greengrass." She narrowed her eyes on him, all friendliness gone as she showed a side only the Deatheaters at the Quidditch Finals had seen so far. "Should I hear otherwise or should there be any attack from you or your friends on Miss Granger or Mister Longbottom, we'll meet again and you'll regret your childish behavior."

Fuming Viktor walked away, ignoring the broad smiles of everyone around. Even Madam Sprout allowed a small smile to creep onto her face. It was really time for this proud boy to be put into his place by someone. "And Miss Granger: Five points for a perfect cast Expelliarmus." With a last smile Madam Sprout left the group.

"That was incredible, Hermione," Harry exclaimed. His friend was still trying to calm her beating heart again.

"A few more months around me and you'll be an acceptable Slytherin," Daphne agreed with a wicked smile. Luckily Hermione didn't hear her comment as she was just showing Neville her gratitude for protecting her with a passionate kiss.

.

_**Present**_

"You have to believe me, Daphne," Pansy pouted. Daphne absentmindedly patted Pansy's hand and looked at the newspaper's head line. The newspaper showed an awful article Rita Skeeter had written about Daphne.

.

**Slytherin Girl playing with their hearts?**

**Yesterday Harry Potter, today Viktor Krum and tomorrow Cedric Diggory?**

.

Detailed the article described how Daphne Greengrass – "a girl of moderate appearance and lacking any real talent" – seduced the poor golden boy only try her dubious charms on the Durmstrang Champion a week later.

The reason for Pansy's reaction were some quotations in the article, alleged statements of her towards Rita Skeeter about Daphne and how she could only have been able to seduce the boys with the help of love potions. It followed a quotation of Draco – "she's only pitting the boys against each other, the dirty bitch, because nobody with a spark of decency would like to be her boyfriend" – and another one of Ginny – "you can't believe how much she changed the poor boy, even setting him against his oldest friend like my poor brother Ron." It ended with the question when – not if – Daphne would try to seduce Cedric next.

All in all Harry thought the article to be funny first of all. Nobody with a bit of reasoning would believe a single word of it. Perhaps someone like Molly Weasley could trust this story, but certainly nobody who mattered. Only the part about her 'moderate appearance and lack of talent' annoyed him.

"You know, Pansy," Hermione responded instead of Daphne – who was still reading and apparently struggling not to have a fit of laughter about the whole matter "You're a real bitch and I would instantly believe that you said something like this about me and how I – 'a girl of poor appearance and lacking any social grace' – convinced 'poor Neville' to be my boyfriend. That would be something like you. But nobody here would expect something stupid like this from you about Daphne."

Hermione really didn't believe it – the fact that Skeeter had been the author certainly helping – and was more amused than angry that someone had chosen this way to drive a wedge between Harry and Daphne. It was simply too much, it was kind of overdose with all these unbelievable details.

"No?" Harry dared to ask with mock seriousness, only to earn himself a dig in the ribs. "You're right, Hermione. Nobody would expect that from you, Pansy."

"See," Hermione smiled sweetly in Harry's direction before she turned to Pansy again. "It is every bit as improbable as Malfoy risking Astoria's fury with stupid statements like this." Everyone at the table grinned. Since Astoria's injury the relation between her and Draco had noticeable changed and while not everyone liked their engagement – Harry and Neville certainly did not – they at least liked to watch Draco's sudden concern about his girlfriend and her new strengthened position in that relationship.

On purpose Hermione didn't mention Ginny's comment. Her name was still a sour point for Harry, but she didn't believe that the red-head would even speak with Skeeter. No, this comment was too much like something Molly Weasley would say. Without effort Hermione could imagine Molly's voice speaking about her 'poor baby Ron'.

Pansy visibly relaxed and a spark of her usual haughtiness returned. "Yes, with you the story would at least be believable, especially the money grabbing and love potion part. Sorry, Daphne, but" she continued with an evil grin "I don't remember who said that a few weeks ago … you aren't able to boil water without help in potions."

"No harm done, Pansy," Daphne grinned back, before she sighed: "With a hint of intellect she would have written something about I using my Charms to influence the boys. Whoops – now I've revealed my most evil plans of boy domination."

"Tut-tut, Daphne," Pansy mock scolded "bad blunder. You're obviously spending too much time with 'I wear my heart on my tongue' Gryffindors."

Daphne waited until Pansy had walked away before she addressed her friends far more seriously: "It still leaves the question: Why this article? Why now and how did she get these 'details'?"

"We should ask her," Hermione proposed. "But I fear there isn't something like 'action for slander' in the wizarding world. Around Muggles we could sue the newspaper until they plead for mercy. Too bad."

"Yes, too bad," Daphne agreed. "Perhaps it is time for another article in the Quibbler. Let's speak with Luna about it."

.

_**Hogwarts – Near the Black Lake – 25**__**th**__** of February Midmorning**_

.

Harry was on his way towards the Black Lake with Hermione and Neville at his side. Under his robe he was wearing the new neoprene suit Roxanne had bought for him. They had trained the heating charm this week every day but still he was very happy about the swim suit's additional protection. It wasn't too cold out here, but still a swimming class in the Black Lake was not his favorite pastime in February. Together with the newly learned 'see underwater' and the 'point-north' spells he felt more or less prepared for this day. While Hermione had taught him the spells, it had been Daphne who found them. Especially about the 'see underwater' he had no idea which remarkable Charm Books Daphne had to peruse to come upon that spell.

And then there was the 'item location' spell – _Deprehensio Rei_. It should allow him to find any item he knew fairly well – be it his broom or the bracelet on Daphne's arm. Hermione had feared that there would be a location veil around the target and a protection against the Accio Spell like there had been at the first task. Harry only hoped that his friend was too pessimistic about it.

Hermione walked silently at Harry's side. The task was nearly done. She felt relieved to have some calmer weeks ahead. The last two had been so crammed that she seldom had time or simply the energy to use her new book to write her parents. She had promised to write them right this evening about the task. Hermione still felt immensely grateful about this present.

She noticed Harry's searching looks around and sighed. She had to tell him now. "Tracey told me that Professor Flitwick wanted to see Daphne. She has not returned."

He reacted better than feared. Perhaps he simply wasn't very surprised at all. "So she had been right. Dumbledore is using her as my hostage."

"She'll be alright, Harry," Neville tried to reassure his friend. "She'll be secure."

"Secure, my ass," Harry growled. "Secure as Hermione and Ginny had been in Second Year. Secure as we have been last year with all those Dementors around. You know, Neville, there exist Texan bandit camps that are securer for a fourteen-year-old girl than Hogwarts."

Neville had no idea what Texans were but he understood the meaning of the statement nonetheless.

"She'll be secure because you're looking after her," Hermione clarified. "You'll find her, you'll rescue her." Her voice showed clearly that she had no doubts about him finding and rescuing Daphne.

Harry smiled at his friend. She always knew the right words to say. Suddenly Hermione stepped in his way and stopped him, her hand against his chest: "And afterwards, after the rescue, you'll apologize to her and snog her senseless, do you understand? This stupid hassle ends today."

Harry's smiled only deepened. "That's the plan."

.

Professor McGonagall was watching the arrival of the spectators – students, teachers, Aurors, Ministry officials and a large number of family members – and the Champions. Every Champion was allowed to have a friend at his side. Viktor Krum was exchanging last tips with his Headmaster – not in the sense of the arrangement but equally not against the rules – and Cedric Diggory had one of his housemates at his side. While Harry was nearing the landing stage with Hermione Granger beside him, Minerva glanced at Fleur Delacour.

Charlie Weasley, former Gryffindor Quidditch Team Captain and now Dragon tamer in Romania, was a sight to behold and a surprise to add. Minerva had heard rumors about both mothers not being very happy about the relationship. Molly apparently had problems to accept a French Veela – both parts being equally damn worthy in her mind – and Fleur's mother certainly had hoped for someone with more money and a better social standing. _But they are a beautiful couple_; Minerva smiled, hoping that both families would come to their senses eventually.

"Do you have the goggles?" Filius asked. The diminutive charms professor was standing at her side and watching the last preparations on the lake.

Minerva tapped on her bag. _Sometimes I wonder what idiots are working at the Ministry_, she pondered. Four months ago, when she heard about the second task, the question had been the same. _Rescue a hostage from the ground of the Lake_ – sounded interesting at first glance. But what about the spectators, waiting at the Lake's shore for an hour only to have the Champions arise from the water hundreds of yards away – with the location of the hostages nothing near the shore?

At least the 'finish problem' had been solved by one of the Unspeakables from the Department of Mysteries. 100 feet above the hostages there would be the real target of the rescue: A floating circle with four attached portkeys, one for every Champion, only working for him or her and his/her hostage, intended to send him to its counterpart, which was floating near the spectators' tribune. According to Lugo Bagman the keys had been checked and double-checked, prohibiting any messing with them.

"Your goggles are a marvel of charm working, Filius."

"Thanks," Filius smiled back. After Minerva's remark about the absurdity to let the spectators watch the empty lake surface, he had spoken with Colin Creevey – under the pledge of secrecy – about Muggle ways to observe such an event. Hearing about cameras and television, live camera and big screens at racing events, he had created these five underwater goggles and five big screens linked to them that allowed the spectators to see what the Champions saw. Ludo Bagman had already shown great interest in using these charms at other sport events.

"Everything okay with the hostages so far?"

"Yes," Minerva responded after a look on her instruments. She was still angry about the Headmaster's lack of interest in ensuring the security of the hostages. _Charm them to sleep, create a bubble of air around them and leave it to the mermen that they stay safe_. Merlin, sometimes she wondered how the students' parents could ever trust him with the welfare of their children – how she could ever trust him the same.

She had to talk herself blue in the face until he allowed her 'to be one of the mermaids'. She would be near the hostages, wearing the fifth pair of goggles, watching them, prepared to intervene. Filius would stay at the beach and watch the instruments she had prepared, instruments that allowed knowing the condition of the linked target at every moment.

With these measures in place Minerva felt reasonable certain that nothing would happen to the hostages. With Daphne one of them and a very angry Agatha Pinegrew watching the task, it was far better this way.

Now she had only to wait for the Headmaster.

.

Fifty feet away Agatha Pinegrew was watching Minerva and the preparations intensely. Daphne had told her a while ago about her suspicion regarding the target of the task and she had shared her opinion. That now only Astoria and not Daphne was sitting at her side – together with Roxanne, Anne and a few friends – only confirmed it.

Like three months ago at the first task Cyrus was watching the task together with Lucius and some of their political friends, while Narcissa and Draco had joined the Pinegrew Clan. Again Narcissa tried her best to be at least polite to her sister and niece, completely ignoring the glares of her husband.

If only Sirius could be exonerated of the charges, Agatha sighed. Through Roxanne she had heard about the conversation between Sirius and Narcissa, heard about their reconciliation. Narcissa had even asked him about ways to help him restore his position as the Head of the Black Family. Yes, Roxanne had been right. Something was very wrong in the House of Malfoy – _or very right_, Agatha smirked.

.

"The time has come," Headmaster Dumbledore started, his voice reaching every corner of the tribune thanks to a Sonorus spell. "In a few minutes the four Champions will enter the second task of the Tournament. It will be their duty to find 'something precious they lost'. They have one hour to find their target. With the help of charmed goggles we prepared …"

Minerva coughed at the word 'we' and Filius showed his best death-glare, but the Headmaster ignored both.

"You will be able to follow their progress."

One his sign Minerva handed over the goggles together with a small potion. "This is only for emergencies. It allows you to stay under water for an additional ten minutes but you'll lose ten points for using it." Viktor refused to accept the potion, but the others thanked Minerva for her prudence. The potion had been another point of debate but Ludo Bagman and Percy Weasley – who now was a member of the committee because of Mister Crouch's 'sickness' – had agreed together with Madam Maxime after some hints about possible bad publicity.

"Before we start it is time to unveil the targets of this rescue mission."

_Daphne, I'm coming_, Harry promised silently, nodding thankfully when Hermione shortly pressed his hand. He expected Cho and Roger Davies to be the hostages for Cedric and Fleur – even with Fleur not being on speaking terms with Roger 'I-drool-into-your-cleavage' Davies since the Yule Ball. But whom did they chose for Viktor? Katie? She had been angry with Viktor since the fight in the Great Hall nearly two weeks ago.

"One person is waiting for every Champion to be rescued somewhere in the Black Lake, charmed to sleep and in a bubble of air lasting for one hour."

With disgust Hermione noticed that most of the spectators seemed to be more excited than appalled to hear this announcement: _Like watching news about some natural catastrophe, shivering with anticipation_.

"For Mister Diggory the hostage will be Miss Cho Chang." This was greeted by a number of giggles and catcalls especially from the Ravenclaw girls.

"For Mister Potter the hostage will be …"

_Miss Daphne Greengrass_, Harry finished silently. _Go on, old man, my girlfriend is waiting for me_.

"Miss Ginny Weasley. For Mister Viktor Krum …"

"What?" The equally angry voices of Harry and Charlie interrupted Headmaster Dumbledore's little speech.

"Why should I rescue Ginny?" Harry asked flabbergasted.

Charlie glared at him and likewise did Hermione "Harry …"

Harry groaned. "I mean: Why did you choose her of all girls? Daphne Greengrass is my girlfriend, Hermione Granger is my best friend – why Ginny?"

Restlessness arose among the spectators. While they were unable to hear what Harry and Charlie were saying, it was quite obvious that this choice of hostage was unexpected.

"Mister Potter, we thought …" Dumbledore's attempt to calm Harry with his friendliest smile failed spectacularly.

"If Daphne is not his hostage, why did you call her away after breakfast," a very agitated Hermione asked a confused looking Professor Flitwick.

"Err … she is one of the hostages," he answered. "I prepared her for the task. I assumed she would be Mister Potter's target."

"No," Dumbledore explained with an unctuous voice. "Miss Greengrass is the hostage for Mister Krum. You certainly understand …"

"I certainly do not," Harry growled furiously.

Minerva glared at her superior and it needed the combined effort of Charlie – "Please, Harry, she's my sister and still your friend, it's not her fault" – and Hermione to convince Harry to continue with the task and to rescue Ginny.

"Alright, Professor Dumbledore, I'll do it. But this issue isn't over."

Viktor Krum's smirk nearly caused Harry to attack him and only Hermione's grip held him back.

With a last happy smile Dumbledore addressed the spectators to announce the last hostage. "And for Miss Delacour we have chosen someone who isn't already a student of Hogwarts but will be in the near future – Gabrielle Delacour."

Fleur paled and nearly fainted from shock. Charlie had to embrace her to prevent her fall.

"How could you allow this?" Harry fumed. "To mess with our friendships and choosing the wrong hostages for Vicky and I is one thing. But Gabrielle is still a child. Merlin, she's ten year old. What responsible adult would allow such a disgusting choice?"

Someone had cast another Sonorus Spell in the meantime, allowing everyone to hear Harry's accusation. The choice of a ten-year-old hostage apparently was not to their liking. Luckily Fleur was too occupied with her concern about her little sister to see how her father flinched and her mother glared at him. His decision to propose Gabrielle as the target – to further motivate his older daughter – would have some repercussions later, this glare promised.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Minerva sighed, ignoring Dumbledore's attempt to stop her. "I wanted Miss Roussevalle to be Miss Delacour's hostage, but the decision wasn't mine to be made."

"You'll find her, Fleur," Charlie tried to calm his girlfriend, before he addressed Minerva: "Will there be someone down there to watch the hostages?"

"Yes, I'll be there."

"Good, I'll accompany you." Charlie locked eyes with Minerva, daring her to deny his request. But after a glance at Fleur she only curtly nodded.

"I can't allow this." Headmaster Karkaroff yelled. "He'll influence the task and …"

"Shut up!" Perhaps it was only the fact that Gabrielle Delacour wouldn't be visiting Beauxbatons next year. Perhaps it was the fact that she really didn't like this choice. Whatever the reason was, Madam Maxime had enough of all this. "Stop being this stupid and let's start with this task already. I trust Professor McGonagall ten times more than a former Deatheater."

Her statement caused quite a number of gasps from the spectators and was enough to silence Karkaroff for a long time.

Headmaster Dumbledore coughed several times. "Alright, let us begin now."

"I wish you luck, all of you. I'll see you at the finish," Minerva stated before she grabbed Charlie's hand and used her portkey to reach the raft that was floating above the hostages. When they arrived, Charlie suddenly relaxed: "Now, Minnie, what was that about Miss Roussevalle?"

Minerva glared at her former favorite student for using that nickname, before she sighed: "You know me to well, Charles." Now it was Charlie's turn to flinch. Not even his mother called him Charles anymore. "It's the idea that counts, don't you think so? As long as Miss Delacour is expecting to find her younger sister at the finish, it would be insignificant whether Gabrielle is really there or perhaps someone else."

Charlie grinned: "Someone like Miss Roussevalle under a Polyjuice Potion perhaps? You old minx."

Minerva slapped his arm but grinned: "I take that as a compliment."

.

Minerva was growing restless. The last forty minutes hadn't been very interesting. She was floating within sight to the hostages with Charlie Weasley nearby. All four hostages were still sleeping.

A few minutes ago Filius had informed her about Fleur's fight with a bunch of Grindylows. They had destroyed her bubble-head charm and required her to use the emergency potion. It had been enough to allow her a secure ascent to the surface of the Lake, but regretfully Fleur had been forced to give up. Ten minutes of air simply weren't enough to reach the hostages.

_At least she's safe_, Minerva sighed. _The potions were a good decision_. Shortly she smiled in Charlie's direction. He knew about Fleur too and had been relieved to hear about her arrival at the surface. Now he had to wait till the end of the task hour to rescue 'Gabrielle'.

"There," Charlie suddenly pointed towards something. Minerva was surprised to really see someone this early. Not even forty-five minutes and it was … Harry. Carefully watching the terrain the boy surrounded the area. He seemed well enough. Minerva couldn't detect any injuries at least. The gills and fins that allowed him to move around this quickly were clearly visible.

At last he neared the hostages and – after a short wave towards Professor McGonagall and Charlie – started to cast some spells. _Healer Examination Charms_, Minerva mused. _Where did he learn those?_ He seemed to be content with the result but instead of freeing his hostage he slowly swam around Ginny and Daphne, waiting for something – or perhaps someone.

.

Somewhere above Hermione was standing at Neville's side, grinning and looking at the screen that showed the pictures from Minerva's goggles: "He doesn't like Dumbledore's plan, it seems."

"Yes, it looks like he has other ideas about the matter," Neville agreed.

Fleur, still disappointed that she had to give up but simultaneously happy to know Charlie near her sister, looked quizzical at the teenagers. Instead of explaining their weird statements, Hermione only smiled: "Good that Charlie is down there."

"Yes," Neville nodded "knowing Harry and his 'I have to rescue every damsel in distress' complex he would certainly stay down there to rescue Gabrielle otherwise."

"He's a real Gryffindor, isn't he," Fleur asked.

"You know only half of it," Hermione sighed.

.

After a few minutes the last Champion arrived. Cedric had just rescued Cho after exchanging a greeting with Harry, when like a dark shadow Viktor Krum – partially transformed into a kind of shark – rushed on towards Daphne, his mouth wide open to snap at the rope that was holding her in place. Seconds before he reached his target a red beam hit his side, stunning him instantly. Minerva and Charlie blinked heavily, watching what happened quite in front of them in stunned surprise. Minerva hadn't to be an Oracle to know the waves of angry consternation that were ruling the spectators at the same time. Through Minerva's goggles they were able to observe how Harry now pocketed away Viktor's wand and tethered Ginny Weasley to the unconscious Champion.

"Enervate!"

Viktor needed some minutes to regain his senses, to understand what happened. For a moment he wanted to attack Harry, but the sight of an armed Harry was enough to convince him otherwise. Harry's gestures were clear enough – _ascend towards the portkey, rescue Ginny and stay away from Daphne_. Asking for help Viktor looked towards Professor McGonagall who had been able to overcome her shock in the meantime.

_What shall I do_, she asked herself. Albus apparently wanted to mend the friendship between Harry and Ginny, but this way obviously didn't work. _He should have expected it._

In the end it was the simple fact that she wanted to avoid a further fight between the Champions that convinced her to signal Viktor to ascend with Ginny as told by Harry. With relief the young boy watched Viktor depart and port away two minutes later. The task hour was nearly gone now and Harry hurried to free Daphne and swim towards his own portkey, leaving behind a Professor in deep thoughts.

.

"I demand that he'll be evicted from the tournament."

Headmaster Karkaroff was fuming since Harry, Viktor and their hostages had left the water. Harry, who had given Viktor's wand to Professor Flitwick to avoid a further fight, was not listening to him and his ramblings. Only Daphne was important now.

Nervous he waited for Professor Flitwick to lift the Sleeping charm and Daphne to wake up. He ignored Viktor's glare, he didn't notice the depressed look of Ginny, who was awake again and watching Harry and Daphne now. Nobody cared for her, neither Viktor nor Harry. Everyone knew that Harry hadn't wanted to rescue her.

"You should go to him," Molly Weasley urged her daughter. Hermione watched it with disgust, noticed Ginny's gloomy look and her crestfallen head-shaking. The small red-head tried to ignore her mother's ramblings and Ron's temper tantrum. Luckily the twins at least noticed her state. Shielding her from the rest of the family they hugged her and led her away. "You have done more than enough, Mum," was George's only comment before they left.

While the five jurors tried to solve the matter – with Karkaroff still fuming and Ludo Bagman the most outspoken in favor of Harry – Hermione and Neville watched happily how Daphne awoke. Hermione grinned as she noticed Professor Flitwick casting secretly a new Sonorus spell, allowing the spectators to listen to the jurors' debate – and to Daphne.

"Harry … this mad old goat chose me to be Vicky's hostage," she yelled angrily. "Please tell me that you didn't allow this poor excuse of a Champion to rescue me."

As expected these words caused more than one face to redden with anger but also hundreds of spectators to erupt in laughter. This only increased when Harry simply stated: "Certainly not; never would I dare to allow someone else to rescue you. You're my personal damsel in distress."

"Good," she smiled for a moment, before her expression turned into a frown again. "But that doesn't mean that you're forgiven for your former behavior."

"I know," Harry sighed. "I'm really sorry. I was a prat. Please forgive me. I'll really try to behave better in the future." The spectators were completely silent now. More than one boy was annoyed be the sentimental look on his girlfriend's face as they listened intensely. The fallout of the former dream pairing – golden boy and ice princess – had caused too many questions.

Thoughtful Daphne looked into Harry's face before she turned to Hermione: "What do you think, is this promise believable."

"Mmm, I don't know …"

"Hey …" Harry growled, while Neville stomped on Hermione's foot. "Okay, okay, he's trustworthy."

"Alright," Daphne smiled. "You better keep your promise, Harry."

Both teenagers blushed deeply when the following kiss was commented by a large number of catcalls from the tribune.

"Ouch … Sonorus," Daphne observed with a tormented expression.

.

"The jury decided that Harry Potter will be allowed to continue the tournament. The task was 'to rescue something precious that was lost'. Forcing Mister Krum to take Miss Weasley with him fulfilled the task. But we'll deduce ten points for attacking another Champion. With that the new order is: Mister Diggory on place one, followed by Mister Krum. Miss Delacour and Mister Potter are placed third together."

"That's not okay," Viktor Krum stepped forward. "She was my hostage. Potter had no right to rescue her."

When Harry moved to respond, Daphne's gently grip stopped him. Instead of him Daphne answered to Viktor's accusations: "Viktor, you may be a great Quidditch player. And I even assume that you're a worthy Champion for your school. But only a complete moron could think I was the right hostage for you. Harry's is my boyfriend, not you. He's my friend, not you. How could I ever be 'something precious you lost'? Viktor, please stop behaving as a prat. Leave me alone. I don't want your presents, attention or mushy poems."

Unable to speak a single word Viktor crestfallen stared at Daphne. For a moment Harry felt pity for him, but then it turned into anger again, anger directed at the Headmaster for messing up again.

After a moment of silence Daphne suddenly continued, her voice very serious now: "I swear on my magic that I never intentionally led Viktor Krum on, I used neither Charm nor Potion to influence him. So mote it be."

Harry watched her a bit pale. With a soft smile Daphne turned to him. "I need a happy thought," she whispered, before she kissed him.

"Expecto Patronum!"

In awe the spectators watched a feathered, winged snake rising into the sky, circling the tribune in joyful motions.

"I think that settles it," Filius commented with a grin and Minerva could only agree.

.

_**A/N**_

_In the next chapter we'll solve some questions about Harry's and Viktor's behavior. Whom do you think would the Pinegrews involve: Minerva (House), Filius (Charms) or Poppy (Potions)?_


	36. Chapter 36 The Second Task (2)

_**A/N**_

_Now it's time to solve some riddles and make some decisions._

_Display of language:_ "[spoken in Latin]", "{Mind Language/Rapport Spell}"

.

**Second Task (2) – Lessons learned and a decision**

.

_Hogwarts – 25__th__ of February_

.

"That was close!" Cyrus had watched the whole task with no small amount of tension. He needed the Potter-boy in his family; he needed a close relation between him and Daphne. Else his whole plan about Astoria marrying Draco would come to a crashing halt. With Roxanne and Agatha staying quiet about the amount of Harry's inheritance he had to ask Lucius for help again. Some careful inquiries later he knew more: Nearly one million Galleons.

That was less than he had hoped for but far more than he needed to repay his debts to Lucius. Potter wouldn't have access to the greater part of his inheritance for a few years but the Goblins had assured their willingness to loan him the money – as soon as Potter was engaged to Daphne.

"That it was," Lucius responded, allowing his emotions to show a bit on his face. "We can't allow Dumbledore another gambit like this again. Perhaps he'll have more success the next time."

"No," Cyrus Greengrass paled. "We have …" He stared at his 'friend', waiting for a strategy as usual.

"We have to drive a permanent wedge between Dumbledore and Potter." Lucius decided like he always did.

.

"Daphne …"

Harry was walking with Daphne, Hermione and Neville towards his family. Roxanne, Agatha and Anne were waiting for them at the side of the tribune together with Augusta Longbottom. The four friends stopped.

"You know, that Patronus of yours that was really impressive. But did you have to make that oath?"

Daphne smiled softly. "Yes, I had to do that. You know … you weren't the only prat for the last weeks." She pressed a kiss on his cheek, her eyes sparkling.

Harry frowned in confusion. What did she mean?

"I should have realized that you only wanted to protect me. You've done some really stupid things, you realize that, Harry?"

Harry nodded weakly, his ears turning a bit pink with embarrassment because of his former temper tantrums.

"But you didn't intend to embarrass me or hurt me. And I was a bit …"

"Bitchy," Neville helped out.

Daphne glared: "Thank you for your assistance, Mister Longbottom."

"We live to serve," Neville responded with a bow, ignoring Hermione's dig in his ribs.

"No you weren't …" Harry tried to dissuade her.

"Harry, please be honest. I should have spoken with you instead of turning away. I knew how crestfallen you were after Astoria got hurt. I really should have reacted better."

"You know," Hermione interrupted "I was a bit surprised that you didn't react stronger when I had my small talk with Vicky."

"Yes," Harry asked with a little pout. "Why did you allow her to be like that and not me?" _His pouting is so cute_, Daphne nearly giggled.

"First: You're my boyfriend. To you apply stricter rules. Second: She's a girl and is allowed a bit of bitchiness. It's even expected. And third: Shock."

"Shock?" Hermione asked with a grin.

"Yeah, simple shock," Daphne agreed. "I never expected something like that from you."

"Apparently you never saw the memory of Hermione 'the-fist' Granger and the broken nose of Draco," Harry grinned.

Hermione blushed deeply, even more when Neville agreed: "Perhaps it's time for a little memory sharing again."

.

"Aunt Anne?"

Anne followed Harry towards the window overlooking the Lake. For the last hour the students and teachers of Hogwarts had been partying together with the other spectators – at least most of them. A few, especially the students of Durmstrang had left, not willing to celebrate the successful conclusion. Instead of realizing how unreasonable his demand had been to evict Harry from the tournament – with his eviction sealing Harry's fate to lose his magic too – Karkaroff had left the Great Hall in a fit of temper and ordered his students to accompany him.

"What's on your mind?"

Harry hesitated. He glanced towards his girlfriend who was watching him with a quizzical look and gestured her that he needed some minutes alone with Anne. "I was a real prat for the last weeks."

"I heard about it," Anne tried to soothe him. "But I think it's understandable."

"No," Harry shook his head. "It's not."

Anne watched him with a little frown but stayed silent, allowing him to gather his thoughts.

"For fourteen years I had to struggle with my temper. Ron and Hermione – they have been really good friends but they too aren't the most level-headed. Only since I spend time with Daphne and Roxanne I learned to control myself better. The meditation and Occlumency lessons certainly helped too. Remember the Winter Break, the news about my family's inheritance?"

Anne nodded.

"I had been furious. I really wanted to strangle the old goat with his own beard. But I was able to control my temper."

"I remember. Roxanne was very proud of you."

Harry smiled shortly before a new shadow darkened his face again. "And then there was Nott's attack on Daphne. For a while I even dreamed about pushing him over the crenellations of the Astronomy Tower for that. But again – Daphne convinced me to only prank him instead of beating him to a bloody pulp."

"And now you wonder why you reacted like this about Viktor?"

Harry nodded. "I should have reacted better. Merlin, I should have trusted Daphne more. I should have asked her permission to blast this git away. My behavior was … childish."

"I understand. Hers wasn't much better from what Hermione had told me."

"Hermione?"

"Yeah," Anne smiled. "We're … exchanging letters. Pen friends you know?"

Harry sensed that there was much more about it but that had to wait for another time. He had noticed that Hermione was exchanging letters with a new pen friend but never thought it would be Anne. "Could you …"

"You want me to do the flushing ritual again?"

Harry nodded. _I should have known that she'll understand_, he mused. "I feel well now, but still … I would feel better to know ..."

Anne bowed her head slightly to approve his request and slowly drew her wand. "I'll cast a few spells to get a first impression. After that I'll speak with Roxanne, alright?"

.

"Are you alright?" Daphne asked in a whisper. A few steps away Anne was speaking with her mother, her grandma and Augusta Longbottom right now. Regretfully Anne had cast a silence spell, but the anger of the four ladies was palpable. Especially her mother was very agitated – her left eyelid was twitching, a sure sign of her outmost anger. _A calming spell_, Daphne wondered, paling as she noticed her grandma casting that spell on her mother.

"I don't know," was Harry's ominous answer. He watched his family too. At least he had a hint what was amiss but Anne had forbidden speaking about it. Minutes later the four women parted ways. Roxanne went looking for Tonks and Remus, while Anne gathered the teens, ignoring the fact that Agatha and Augusta were on their way towards the teachers' table.

"Astoria, you'll take care of Balou, Hedwig, Crookshanks and Mandragora for the next days. We others" she pointed towards Harry, Daphne, Neville and Hermione "we'll depart … now."

More than one teenager wanted to ask for the reason but Anne's face told that she was deadly serious, more than a bit miffed and unwilling to answer any question right now. Astoria nodded and hugged her sister goodbye.

With a last look towards Agatha and Augusta the four teenagers followed Anne towards the exit.

.

_How could this all go so wrong_? Headmaster Dumbledore mused. Quite this morning it all seemed to fall in place like planned. He had succeeded in driving a wedge between Potter and Greengrass and the choice of the hostages was meant to be the final building block to his small master plan.

But then this little selfish git destroyed all his plans when he decided to free Greengrass instead of the Weasley-girl. How could he be so stupid? He even risked losing his magic. Potter couldn't be certain that his way to handle the matter would meet the conditions of the tasks. What if the magical contract decided that he didn't fulfill the task? Potter couldn't be so selfish to lose his magic only because of a girl-snake, could he?

And the last straw had been the girl's oath. He had planned to put out another article about her and her evil machinations in a few days. A timely detection of Viktor's love potion poisoning would be the last proof of her fiendishness. He already saw the owls carrying all kind of howlers and letters filled with Bubotuber descending towards her place.

But who would believe even Rita Skeeter after this public display of honesty? And he had to admit: He was a little impressed by her capability to cast a corporal Patronus at her age. And a feathered winged serpent to add, a sure sign of her healer soul. No, nobody would believe him now anymore in that matter.

.

"Headmaster Dumbledore."

The voice was icy and the cold fury was barely hidden behind her determined face. Albus gulped. There certainly were more pleasant sights than Agatha Pinegrew and Augusta Longbottom standing side by side, fuming, breathing down your neck. Instantly both ladies had the attention of all teachers and their guests.

"There is some important family business the members of House Pinegrew and House Longbottom have to address. This includes our junior family members. Therefor we request a thirty-six hour vacation for Daphne Greengrass, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger. They'll leave with us this hour and will return tomorrow in the evening."

"Lady Pinegrew," Albus tried his best to show a façade of trustworthiness and self-confidence. "It's not that easy …"

He was interrupted by a growl of Augusta Longbottom. Totally stunned Minerva stared at her friend. A lady didn't growl, but …

Minerva edged a bit away from Albus. _What had he done_?

"You'll allow it, Headmaster Dumbledore," Augusta glared at him "Else we'll depart nonetheless – but then we'll extract all four students permanently from this school."

"You can't be serious," a very pale Headmaster answered. "They have to finish their education."

'El Colegio de Encantamiento' in Toledo already accepted them should they decide to switch schools," Agatha responded with a sneer. "The Spanish Ministry of Magic would be more than happy to invite our children. Daphne is already fluent in Spanish and the others will be after the summer break."

"So: What's your decision?" A very sour-faced Augusta Longbottom asked.

He couldn't lose Potter. Or Neville – the young Longbottom had always been his backup plan. Very pale he struggled to place a smile on his lips: "If it is this important to you, I think we can allow an exception."

"Good decision," Agatha Pinegrew's voice was pure ice now. Minerva wasn't able to remember a moment she had seen her former apprentice this livid.

"Charms Master Flitwick," Agatha suddenly addressed the diminutive professor, surprising everyone with her choice of title. Yes, he was a charms master like Minerva was transfiguration master by why would she address him this way? "My daughter wanted to extend an invitation to you too. If you haven't any especially important other plans House Pinegrew and House Longbottom would be honored to host you this weekend."

Filius turned around as if looking for his Headmaster's reaction. In reality he was staring at his colleague's face and only after Minerva's short nod he responded: "I'm honored and accept the invitation. If you'll excuse me," he addressed the table and followed the ladies.

"What have you done, Albus?" Minerva asked hoarsely. "What have you done?"

.

_Pinegrew Manor – Library – Afternoon _

.

"Professor Flitwick," Daphne greeted her favorite professor with a tiny frown. "You're here? I mean … I'm happy to see you."

They had gathered in the library. Everywhere were signs of Remus' work. He had started to examine the Pinegrew library two weeks ago, leaving it to Bill Weasley to purge the Potter library and house from all dangerous books and artifacts. Hermione knew that he was working on a way to duplicate the contents of all three libraries – Potter, Black and Pinegrew – and merge them to one. She felt a bit giddy thinking about the possibilities and knew that at least Daphne was feeling the same.

Agatha and Roxanne; Harry, Daphne, Hermione and Neville; Tonks and Remus, Augusta Longbottom and now Filius Flitwick; it was a large and weird gathering. Only Sirius was absent – and Anne. Daphne's aunt had left a few minutes ago to floo someone.

"Please take a seat," Agatha more ordered than begged. "Charms Master Flitwick, my daughter trusts you more than any other teacher at Hogwarts. Because of that and because of your grasp of Charms we invited you to join us today. But this is family business. I expect you to stay silent about this – as everybody else. This means silence towards everybody – especially the Ministry and the Headmaster."

Tonks and Remus nodded. There had been a time not so far ago where this would have been a problem – but not now anymore. Filius stayed silent much longer. He had no problems to hide something from the Ministry but Albus was a completely other matter.

"Filius," Roxanne addressed him after a while. "I need your help in this matter. Please trust me."

With a thoughtful expression he looked around. Roxanne, his former favorite student; Daphne and Hermione, his current favorites; and then there was Augusta, one of the few persons who were beyond any doubts in their integrity. Slowly he nodded. "I agree."

Agatha relaxed a bit and put some papers in his small hands. "Please read."

Everybody else knew what these papers were about: Neville and how 'someone' had messed with his magical alignment; Neville and how they had been able to realign him.

Filius remained calm, deathly calm even, his voice not allowing to read any emotion when he stated after a while: "So this is the reason for Mister Longbottom's improvement. Three months ago – among the three dozen students of his year – I would have placed him around place thirty, at least in regards to practical spell-weaving. In the theory he had always been among the best dozen but his casts …"

Neville sighed, his ears a bit pink. Hermione, seating at his side, put an arm around his waist, causing tiny smiles from the onlookers.

"But he improved immensely, made bigger steps than even Mister Potter who has shown a far better control over his spells in the last weeks too." Roxanne smiled. Daphne had told her about Harry's progress but this was more official, a neutral opinion. "Now Neville's practical work is on par with his theory. I expect to see him improve further, Miss Granger."

Hermione grinned. "He will; I have my ways." Neville's blush only deepened.

"I've no doubts about that," Filius grinned back. "You know, Roxie," he ignored her frown "Miss Granger is nearly as talented as your daughter at Charms – or as you have been."

"No," Daphne denied "Hermione is far better."

"Miss Granger is a very bright witch and I expect much from her, especially with her very broad talent at every kind of magic. But you – like your mother – have a 'sense' for charms. That's a very rare gift."

Harry looked quizzical at his godmother: "I always thought Transformation Magic to be your greatest talent."

"No," Agatha responded instead of her daughter, giving her a one-armed hug. "She only obeyed my wishes. I begged her to follow my steps as Minerva's apprentice. One of my greater errors I now realize – even if not nearly as bad as my decision to allow my late husband to marry her off to Cyrus."

Roxanne stepped to her mother's side. "It wasn't so bad. And thanks to that I've Daphne and Astoria now." With a malicious grin she added: "And by the way – Cissy and I already spoke about ways to poison our dear husbands; you see – there's still hope and place for dreams."

Filius coughed slightly. Tonks looked flabbergasted: "Cissy? As in Narcissa Malfoy?"

"You do know, Dora," Remus grinned "that proverb about still waters?"

"I'll help you," Hermione suddenly interjected, stunning everybody. "What? I never liked Malfoy. Think about it: He nearly killed Ginny two years ago. And Mister Greengrass appears to be a bad copy of that prat."

"Without your mirror he would have killed you, 'Mione," Neville remarked with barely controlled anger. "He deserves a slow painful death."

.

"I assume you know these spells, Filius?" Roxanne offered him a new stack of documents, these describing the spells and potions they had used on Christmas to detect any love potions or charms working on the four teenagers.

He examined them closely and nodded. "They're seldom used but I know them quite well. From time to time the Ministry wanted to have someone examined with these charms. They aren't exploitable in court but still very useful."

"We used them on Christmas. These are the results," she pointed towards another paper. "Naturally we purged all lingering effects."

Filius understood the meaning of this statement instantly. "So they should be free of all influencing effects right now."

"They should be, yes," Anne growled, who had just returned.

.

Remus, Tonks, Augusta, Agatha and Roxanne watched in silence how Filius and Anne used the spells to examine Neville, Hermione and Daphne. With each subject of their examination Professor Flitwick became angrier.

"Neville and Hermione have been subjected to some low-powered Confundus Charms," Filius insisted after a while and Anne agreed. "The effect should have ended by now. I see no other lingering Charms."

Augusta sighed with relief. At least nobody had dared to mess in a more severe kind with her protégés.

"Why should someone cast a Confundus on us?" Hermione asked.

"Because," Harry responded with a low voice "You would have noticed my strange behavior otherwise. Only you three – among the students – would know that I don't explode anymore like I did before."

"That makes sense," Hermione agreed with a low voice.

"Beside Minerva's task spells there are an active tracker and a health monitoring spell on Daphne," Filius wondered.

"They are on me," Hermione explained. She blushed when everyone stared at her. "I cast them in case …"

"In case Minerva and I bungled the task," Filius continued. "I'm so happy about your trust in my abilities."

Hermione intensely stared at her feet. Suddenly she felt arms around her and a kiss to her cheek. "You're the best, 'Mione," Harry whispered.

"What else about Daphne," Roxanne coughed.

"The reverberations of that healing spell she used on her sister, but that could be expected."

Shortly Roxanne glared at her daughter. "We have to speak about that later, Daphne."

"We do not," Daphne glared back.

"You weren't supposed to use those spells." Roxanne had been pleased to learn about Daphne's spell use but frightened too.

"Then you shouldn't give me a book like that. It was my decision. End of story. Please continue, Professor Flitwick." Roxanne started to respond but then only nodded in Filius' direction.

"Signs of Confundus Charms again, a few weak compulsion charms – only to strengthen normal behavior, not to change it altogether. And some … I'm not certain about those signs."

"Strife," Anne interjected. "She has been in an area where a Strife spell had been cast. And more than once I would assume."

"I think you're correct about that," Filius agreed after a moment.

"You use those area spells," Anne explained to the audience "to influence someone indirectly. You don't have to cast the spell on the person and you minimize the chance that the spell can be detected."

"That leaves me," Harry stepped forward. He was unnaturally calm in the moment; a sure sign that he was quite agitated but tried hard to suppress these emotions. And it was a sign that the effects of those charms had really stopped to influence him.

.

_Pinegrew Manor – Daphne's Room – Evening_

.

"And now," Daphne asked, hugging her boyfriend. Harry was sitting at her side, his head resting against her shoulder.

Like her he apparently had been subjected to a number of Charms, mostly increasing his inclination to fight. Added to the confundus, compulsion and strife spells Filius and Anne found another that increased his hormonal level. In the end it was quite a surprise that he hadn't simply gone amok these last weeks.

"Do you want to get this protection?" Daphne asked quietly.

.

"_How do we protect our children in the future?" Augusta's calm voice asked what everybody was thinking about. Despite the circumstances Hermione smiled. 'Our children' – Augusta meant her too._

"_I don't know much we could do," Filius sighed._

"_I've spoken about this with Spiritualist Nowles," Anne explained with a low voice. So she had been the one, Anne had wanted to floo. "She's willing to use the Adamas Ritual on them. If they agree; in the end it's their decision."_

"_The 'unfeeling heart'," Filius asked. "You know that there are reasons this ritual is used so seldom."_

"_What kind of ritual is that?" Harry asked. He looked at Hermione but even his friend could only shrug._

"_It is a ritual used to protect against influencing magic. It protects against a large number of spells and potions and warns you against even more. It should suppress most effects and inform you about the general nature of the used spell. It is a ritual you have to refresh yearly."_

"_And the side effects?"_

"_It protects against a large number of spells and potions," Filius repeated "even those you want to take effect. No cheering charm, no calming draught, no potion of dreamless sleep."_

_._

"I think we should use that protection," Harry decided.

"Good," Daphne whispered, pressing a kiss on his neck. "The last month was awful. I don't want a repetition."

"I do neither," Harry agreed.

"We decided to accept that ritual too," Hermione remarked.

"Grandma agreed," Neville added.

"Do you think that Viktor has been under a charm too?" Harry asked.

"I don't know," Daphne answered after a moment of pondering. "I assume it could be something like that. But his reaction was even stronger. Perhaps someone used a potion."

Harry flinched.

"What?" Daphne asked.

"What if … first there was his reaction, perhaps caused by a potion. Then there was that article by Skeeter. She suggested that you used a potion on him. Wouldn't it be very appropriate to detect that potion now as a proof?"

Daphne paled. "You're right."

"It's too late for that," Neville interjected. "Daphne's little stunt with that oath nullified any rumors."

"I hope you're right," Harry sighed.

"But we should still help him," Hermione remarked with a thoughtful expression. "He has been a real git but if it was under the influence of a potion or charm he should be freed from that."

"But how?" Daphne asked "I don't expect him agreeing to some spells cast on him by me. Or to drink some potion I offer him."

"Poppy," Neville grinned.

"Yes, Poppy," Harry agreed. "We should speak with her. You know, Daphne, I don't feel so well after the task in the Lake. Perhaps it's time for a bit of examination for all Champions – and perhaps a potion or two, only as a precaution."

"Yes," Daphne agreed. "That would be a very wise approach for a responsible healer."

.

_A bit later – Library_

.

"I had the impression," Augusta remarked with a steely voice "that you recognized the signature of those spells, Filius."

Filius looked down and played with his tumbler of Ogden's finest. He sighed. Should he speak about it? They certainly already expected the answer.

"We won't expect you to speak about it as a witness in court, Filius. But we have to know." Agatha begged in a surprisingly calm and warm tone.

Filius nodded. "I only know a very small number of wizards who would be able to hide their handiwork that well and live around Britain. I've seen that signature before. Albus – it was Albus who cast that spell."

"I knew it." Harry's sudden voice startled all.

"Harry you shouldn't …" Roxanne started but stopped herself. She sighed deeply. With a sad expression she watched Daphne, Hermione and Neville entering the room. They all knew.

Hermione obviously was near tears and had to be consoled by Neville. Even she had guessed that it had been Dumbledore but to hear it from Professor Flitwick shocked her. With each new experience her respect for teachers took another blow.

"This has to end now," Harry decided. "We want this ritual for protection. And we want Dumbledore away from Hogwarts."

The heads of the adults snapped in his direction. They were shocked, but nobody disagreed, not even Filius.

"We all know that he hasn't been the best Headmaster. There are so many things afoul at Hogwarts: Trelawney, Binns, Snape to mention only three. We're lacking some important subjects. I remember our discussion about the introduction of Muggleborn to the Wizarding, Mother. And we need a better Muggle Lore. Arts, sports, languages – with Dumbledore as Headmaster we have no chance to change anything. But most of all: We can't trust him anymore, at least not around us. He may be all good and well at the Wizengamot, but I don't want him around Hogwarts anymore."

"Either Dumbledore leaves Hogwarts," Daphne agreed "or Grandma's statement about that Spanish School won't be an empty threat anymore."

"And who should be Headmaster in his stead," Filius asked. That he even consented to think about it showed clearly how much the events of the afternoon had shocked him.

"Either you or Minerva," Agatha proposed and everyone agreed. "I would assume you, Filius. Minerva simply loves teaching too much."

"And to have a Headmaster with a pint of goblin-blood in his veins would be an incredible political sign to all races," Daphne quietly added, earning her a soft smile from her mother.

"We'll need allies," Augusta remarked.

"I have an idea about that," Roxanne stated without further explanation. Her expression was that of someone biting into a lemon.

.

_Hogwarts – Gryffindor Tower_

.

The curtains around her bed were close-drawn, a silence spell put on them to hide her crying from her dorm-mates. _This was the worst day of my life_, the red-headed girl sobbed. _Why didn't they listen to me? Why did they force me to be his hostage? They should have known_.

Somewhere in the last two months she had realized that she didn't want all this anymore. She wanted her friends back. She still had a little crush on Harry – Ginny wasn't certain about the depth of her feelings anymore. Apparently they had changed a bit over the past months. But still she wanted him to be her friend. The same was true about Hermione and Neville: Sweet kind Neville and ridiculous smart Hermione, one of the few people who always had treated her as an equal – unlike her brothers.

But this had all changed. After Christmas she had wondered if she would be able to get their friendship back, but then her mother had started to push her again. And the Headmaster had been on her side. Both were unable or unwilling to understand that there was no chance to get Harry back – not that he ever had been 'hers' from the beginning.

Professor Flitwick had been surprised to see her among the hostages, but he had obeyed the Headmaster's order and prepared her. Daphne had only glared in her direction, understanding long before the Professor what Dumbledore had planned. The older girl hadn't spoken a word with her and Ginny had been too wounded, too depressed to say something. She had lost another friend at that moment, a friend she had been surprised to have on her side. Ginny still didn't understand why Daphne had been willing to help her, despite Ron's temper and even Harry's anger. Naturally Ron had assumed some dark motive but Fred had been convinced that the Slytherin-girl was playing fair. And Ginny had believed him – until she bungled this friendship too.

Somewhere deep down she still had hoped, still had dreamed about her black-haired prince coming to her rescue. But when she awoke it was a fuming Viktor she saw standing at her side. Harry hadn't obeyed the Headmaster's plan. Instead he had forced Krum's hand, forced him to rescue her and shown to everybody that only Daphne was important to him.

At least she would have her peace now. Her mother and the Headmaster would realize at last that there wasn't any hope anymore. Perhaps, after a while and with Luna's help, she could convince Harry and Daphne to forgive her.

Ginny turned around, pressed her face into her pillow and allowed her tears to soak it.

_Tomorrow all will be better._

.

_Pinegrew Manor – Garden – 26__th__ of February (Hermione's POV)_

.

"She'll be here any minute," Anne remarked.

We were waiting in the garden: Us four teenagers, Anne, Roxanne and Agatha together with Professor Flitwick and Remus. It was still difficult for me not to think of him as 'Professor Lupin', to call him simply 'Remus' but I was working on it. Tonks and Sirius had decided not to watch the Ritual. _"No, sitting still for several hours is not my favorite kind of spending my spare time." _

I on the other hand had my own problems to be calm and collected. _She_ would be here in a few minutes – Spiritualist Nowles.

"Her name isn't Nowles really," Anne had explained at breakfast. "But her real Macedonian name is a real tongue twister so she allowed us long ago to simply call her Nowles."

_Us_ – with us she meant the members of the 'Congregation'. Anne had told me in her letters about it and that Nowles had been her teacher and mentor like she had been for Anne's mother and grandmother before. She had to be really ancient, perhaps as old as Griselda Marchbanks even. Nobody knew that apart from the Ritual there was another reason for her visit today. She would speak with me, confirm or disapprove Anne's opinion about me.

Like she was reading my mind Anne put her hand on my shoulder and whispered: "You'll do fine. I trust you, she'll too."

I tried to show a confident smile but failed miserably. For weeks Anne and I had been exchanging letters. _What do you think about faith? What do you think about philosophy? What's your opinion about the laws and rules of the Wizard society, about how we treat other races?_ I had been clear from the beginning that we shared opinions about many of those issues; Anne only had a more patient and pragmatic approach. It was nice to have someone to speak about something like that. Until now even my friends hadn't understood why things like SPEW had been important to me. They endured my lectures and – apart from my former friend Ron – never made fun of it. Daphne even had been helpful in the matter. But they didn't really understand.

And now there was Anne. She offered me a chance to be a member of a group with similar thoughts, with similar idea about how to change our society into something better. I feared to botch this chance.

"Spiritualist Nowles is a bit … exceptional." For a moment it sounded like she wanted to say 'odd' or 'weird'. "And I hope your Latin isn't too rusty as she dislikes using any modern tongue." Anne grinned when Harry and Neville paled about this bit of information. I knew that Daphne was speaking Latin fluently – not only reading like her knowledge in Ancient Greek but really speaking. And I hoped that my former lessons would be enough to understand her at least. Neville and Harry on the other hand never had started to learn more than a few words, no more than you needed for spell-casting.

"You're a bitch, Anne," Roxanne laughed after a while, before she calmed our nerves: "She'll be using the Rapport Spell in the Ritual, so there shouldn't be any problems to understand her." Anne coughed slightly about the understanding part but stopped when Roxanne and Agatha glared at her.

_The Rapport spell_ – I really wanted to learn that too. It had been more than helpful in the training with Harry. To share information, pictures and even emotions much quicker than normal, much more intensive had improved our transfer of knowledge immensely. But at the moment only Daphne and Harry were trained and able to cast the spell. We could be integrated in the 'conversation group' but not initiate it.

"[It's too cold and windy in your garden, Agatha. Apparently your weather magic didn't improve since our last session.]"

I whirled around towards the new guest. _She's small_, was my first thought. _She's ancient_, was the second. A tiny woman with a gnarled face was watching us, her expression showing her discontent clearly. I had to suppress a smile as I noticed how Agatha was fidgeting under her stare, behaving like a six-year-old under the glare of her kindergartener.

"[You think this is funny, dear?]"

I gulped. My face switching between blushing and paling I stared at her. I had the feeling that her dark eyes were drawing me into her deep soul. How long had we been standing there without speaking a single word? I didn't know. With a very hoarse voice, unsteady because I was unused to use Latin for speaking, I answered: "[I had been impressed to watch Agatha use those spells to shelter the garden from the winter weather. I'd like to watch someone doing it better but for the beginning I would be happy to be able to even use those spells.]"

"[Would you so?]" She stared again. I felt the restlessness of Harry, the tense control of Daphne and the waves of support from Neville. "[I have to disappoint you. You'll never be a real weather witch – Too much brain, too much control.]" For a moment I felt disappointment: Another kind of magic I would be unable to master.

Suddenly I sensed her hand on my cheek and she showed me a surprisingly soft and warm smile. "[I didn't say you wouldn't be able to learn those spells. I only said you would never be really good at them. It is the same with Agatha and you certainly don't think less of her, do you child?]"

I hastily shook my head. Agatha had been the one witch to slowly take over the place that had belonged to Minerva McGonagall for three years: My intellectual model.

"[Good]" She patted my cheek. "[I see much of her in your soul. Ana may be the one to teach your friend Harry, but you certainly would do better to take after Agatha. After a while you'll be … adequate.]"

_Adequate?_ I never had been adequate. I felt anger rising in me until I saw her thoughtful look. "[Pride is something very dangerous, child. Never assume that you know all about a matter. There will always be someone better, always be something new to learn.]"

I only nodded, didn't know what to answer and apparently she didn't expect any, wanted me to think about it for a while instead. The old lady turned around and nodded in Anne's direction: "[I approve.]"

For a moment I stared at Anne in confusion. What was she talking about? She couldn't mean … months of exchanging letters with Anne to convince her and now this lady approved after a single look? But what a look it had been. I still felt her gaze somehow.

"[This place will be acceptable.]" She suddenly remarked, pointing towards a patch of grass between a few cherry trees.

"{Take your places.}"

I had expected to hear her voice in my head but still it was surprising. It felt warm, comforting, soothing – it felt simply incredible. Like sitting with my grandma in winter, a cup of cocoa in my hand and listening to her reading some Christmas carol. We followed her gestures and stat down, clad only in underwear and robes, our bare feet touching the grass, connecting us to the earth as required.

Each of us belonged to a cardinal direction; each of us belonged to an Element. Naturally Harry was the fire with Anne at his side, as his companion in this ritual. Earth – who else could be earth than my Neville? Agatha stood behind him, her hands on his shoulders, relaxed, the only one among us who had done something like this before. Roxanne was leading her daughter through the ritual as the element of water, the element of healing and life-giving. This left only the air for me, the open sky, open to new ideas, open to a strong wind destroying any boundaries down on earth.

I was happy and honored to have Augusta at my side. Yes, she was a bit too traditional to my liking – as she had qualms with my eagerness to change everything. Together we would be a force to be feared – or so I hoped.

"{You decided on this Ritual to take place in this way: Together, with patrons at your side. To protect your mind, to steel your emotions you have to trust each other. Your patron is your weakness and your forte. You'll be connected with each other, allowing only your patron to change your mind through magic but likewise protecting you from any influence.}"

Anne had explained it to us. From now on only Augusta would be able to cast emotional spells on me in an effective way. Everybody else would fail in doing so. I would feel such a spell, even know the general intend of it, but it wouldn't influence my emotions anymore. I would be protected. Looking up I saw the quizzical stare of Augusta. I smiled and nodded slightly. I trusted her.

"{Each element is strong in its own way, but together you'll be even stronger. Hold close to each other, preserve your friendship. Intensify your bond.}"

It was clear that this wouldn't be a normal friendship anymore after this ritual. Even now I was able to feel the others, to see the invisible lines between us. Anne had explained that this bond would offer us other benefits too, the simplest being a better protection against Legilimency. A little I feared this nearness, feared to lose my seclusion, but a small squeeze from Augusta, a single smile from Neville was all I needed to relax again.

Never again would I be alone. Never again would I feel unloved, laughed at as the weird one. From now on and forever I had something very special: Friends.

.

"I'm impressed."

Professor Flitwick and Remus exchanged looks and smiles. They had used the last hour to test our protection. Even Professor Flitwick had been unable to get a reaction from us with his calming, cheering and compulsion spells. I felt better now – protected.

Spiritualist Nowles had been watching us, quietly speaking with Anne, Roxanne and Agatha about something, sometimes looking at Daphne and Harry. I was eager to close this and continue to speak with Anne. Nowles apparently had allowed her to teach Neville and I how to use the Rapport spell and even how to intensify the connection. This would be so wonderful. I nearly giggled in anticipation.

"But I fear that it's time for me to leave. I've a few things to prepare for the next week." Professor Flitwick stood up and said farewell to everyone. He sighed: "These two days had been an eye-opener to me. I have to think about what I learned from you. We should continue this conversation about the Headmaster in a week or two. If it's okay I would like to inform Madam Sprout and Professor McGonagall."

Roxanne, Agatha and Anne exchanged glances and after a while Agatha nodded. "That would be acceptable. But please stay quiet about the Ritual. To know about a protection is the first step to circumvent it."

Filius nodded agreement and quietly left.

.

"{Before I leave we have a last thing to discuss.}" Spiritualist Nowles started. That she was able to integrate eight other persons in her mental Rapport was only another sign of her experience and strength. Daphne and Harry were only able to integrate three persons so far.

"{Do you really think that this is the right decision?}" Roxanne sighed miserably. "{I know that he deserves to know and I don't want 'to be a Dumbledore' about such important information. But still …}"

"{You can't protect Harry permanently, Mum.}" Daphne's calm thought surprised me for a moment, but not for long.

"{It's about his scar, isn't it?}" I asked quietly.

"{What do you mean? What's about my scar?}" Harry touched the scar at his forehead, the scar that had only been reason for much discomfort so far, with everyone staring at it, looking at him like an odd curiosity.

"{It feels wrong,}" Daphne remarked with a depressed 'voice'. "{It feels like it didn't belong there, like something foreign and unhealthy, not meant to exist, cheating the laws of nature.}"

Nowles smiled at Daphne, patted her hand. "{Your inner eye is remarkable.}"

For a moment a memory of Professor Trelawney and her inner eye went through my mind. I better didn't mention it, Daphne wouldn't be happy about that kind of comparison.

"{But she's right. Anne had some suspicions about your scar after she examined you two months ago. She spoke about it with me and now I had a chance to have a look at it myself.}"

She sighed and stared at Harry, her expression more than a bit unhappy.

"{Harry, when Voldemort attacked your family and killed your parents, he didn't simply die. Someone as strong as he sometimes is able to cheat death in a way that isn't meant to be. He left behind a tiny bit from himself, a tiny chip of his soul.}"

Harry touched his scar, his expression pure disgust. "{So this is a part of him?}"

"{In a way … yes. I assume that's the reason for your Parseltongue ability. Leaving a part of his soul behind, he also left a part of his knowledge.}"

"{Does … does this influence me?}"

The fear was quite obvious, the fear to become like 'Him', that his temper was a first step on his way down a dark road. I felt the thoughts racing through his mind: _Had Dumbledore been right about his dark side?_

"{No.}" Spiritualist Nowles' voice was pure iron and determination now. "Your enemies and friends, your deeds and experiences influence you, but not this. You are what you are, Harry, what you want to be, what you allow your friends to change you into. This …}" She poked at the scar. "{Is a problem, even a serious problem, but no excuse.}"

"{O … okay}" Harry whispered.

He stayed silent for a long time, hugged by Daphne, the loving eyes of Hermione and Roxanne on both teenagers. Everyone allowed them to think about this news, to stomach what it meant to Harry.

"{Can you help me … to get lost of it?}" Harry asked after a while.

Spiritualist Nowles shook her head. "{I can't. But I can help Daphne to learn how to do it.}"

With wide eyes Daphne stared at her and Harry looked at his girlfriend in confusion.

"{You already decided about your future, girl.}" Nowles remarked with a soft smile. "{You only have to allow your mind to follow your heart. It's no sign of weakness to follow your emotions, Daphne. I would be honored to teach you all I know about the art of Spirit Healing. But however you'll decide: I'll help you to find a way to free Harry from this bad memory. But it's nothing I could teach you today or next month. First you have to grow – grow in spirit and magic. The bond between you and Harry, better even between all four of you, has to grow stronger first. Only then can we attempt to cleanse him. Only cleansed will Harry be able to live really free. We'll find a way, Harry. But you had to know.}"

.

_Malfoy Manor – 26__th__ of February - Evening_

.

Cyrus felt a bit annoyed, sitting in Lucius' lounge, enjoying his best Cognac and waiting for a message from his dear wife, telling him about the departing of the children. She more or less had evicted him from their manor and forbid him to come back without her allowance. And he didn't even know the reason. Lucius had offered his hospitality – not for the first time – without questions.

To call it a surprise when Lucius' house elf announced a late visitor would be an understatement. _His wife? Roxanne Greengrass née Pinegrew at Malfoy Manor on her own free will? Unbelievable_.

But there she was. Her face clearly showing her disgust to be here, her greetings to Cyrus barely polite and her only short smile reserved for Narcissa, she entered the lounge.

"What's the reason of your visit, dear Roxanne?" Lucius asked, sensing that she hadn't the composure for small talk.

"It seems, Lucius, that we have a common goal – at the moment at least."

Cyrus watched the exchange in shocked silence and even Narcissa seemed more than a bit surprised. Only Lucius remained calm, a narrowing of his eyes his only physical reaction. "And what goal could that be?"

"We have a common enemy, Lucius. I request your help in the removal of Headmaster Dumbledore."

.

_**A/N**_

'_El Colegio de Encantamiento' = The School/Academy of Enchantment; Toledo is a well-known city in Spain._


	37. Chapter 37 Mind your Memories

**Mind your memories**

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – Sixth of March – Lunch Time (Snape's POV)_

.

With a suppressed sigh I lowered the letter I just received from Roxanne Pinegrew. A few weeks ago I had started to call her Pinegrew – in my mind at least – because I believed that Cyrus didn't deserve her anymore, if he ever did. Not after his behavior for the past months, not after the plans he concocted – the plans that had started the doubt in my heart regarding my old friend Lucius.

"I'll expect you at Pinegrew Manor on Saturday the eleventh for lunch. The transfer of your memories into the picture should be finished within an hour, but the process is very exhausting, so you're invited to stay for the afternoon. I'm certain we'll find an interesting book for you in the library."

_At least she wasn't expecting some nice small talk_. On the other hand the Pinegrew ladies belonged to the shrinking number of persons in my life, who were able to make a sophisticated conversation, something I sorely missed at Hogwarts. Perhaps the afternoon wouldn't be so bad. Not that I really had any choice about the matter. There was still the bargain with Roxanne's daughter from January. She had held her end of the bargain and indeed convinced Potter to leave Nott alone – more or less. His pranks had even been a bit amusing to watch. Not that I ever would admit openly to enjoy a 'Potter prank'. But now it was time to accomplish my duty. A visit to Pinegrew Manor it would be.

"All right, Severus?" Minerva asked with quite that amount of concern in her voice that I hated to hear, but still reminded me that she was one of my very rare friends. Albus showed concern too, but it always had been the concern about a well-functioning tool. Minerva on the other hand always saw the human in me. Often I had wondered how I deserved this fondness.

I nodded. "I'm alright, Minnie," wishing instantly to take back the words. To use her nickname was a certain sign that not all was right about me. But to my relief she chose to respect my wishes, my privacy and only showed me a soft smile before she turned around to Madam Sprout again.

Thoughtfully I watched them. Since the second task – or to be exact: Since Filius returned the day after the task – there had been many conversations among the teachers, mostly among Minerva, Filius, and Pomona but also with a few others. Only Hagrid, the oaf with his way too big mouth and his Dumble-love, Sibyll 'I-speak-weird-even-when-I'm-sober' Trelawney and Mad-Eye hadn't been part of those conversations. And I had been neither, naturally. Apparently nobody trusted me enough to speak with me about important matters. Not that I blamed them. It was quite obvious that there was something going on about the Headmaster and I was still too near to him, still too indebted.

What could it be they were speaking about, or more exact: Plotting? The angry demeanor of Augusta Longbottom and Agatha Pinegrew had been a sure sign that they weren't happy about Albus. Something he had done, something more than simply messing with the friendship between Potter and Greengrass with his exchange of the hostages. It had been a very stupid act in my eyes, and the reasoning to do this still hidden to me. Albus hadn't been willing to speak about it, but I saw the signs in his face: He was worried. That I was able to see those signs was a sure clue about the amount of trouble he had to face at the moment.

The most surprising about the whole issue had been my impression that even Lucius was somehow part of the whole matter. He had sent Headmaster Karkaroff a letter a few days after the task. I knew that he despised the former Deatheater, the 'traitor'. What could they have to discuss? Apart from their hatred for Albus and Potter they had nothing in common, as far as I knew.

"Lucius asked me about the Headmaster." I remarked with a low voice, intensely watching Minerva's reaction. Her eyes widened for a moment. She had never been any good in hiding her emotions.

"Oh, what about," she responded, trying fruitlessly to hide her interest.

"He wanted to know about some of the events of this year: The choice of the Champions, how the tasks went behind the scenes. He was especially interested about how Albus handled the choice of the hostages and his behavior towards Daphne Greengrass." The choice of the Champions had been a wonder to me too. Despite my official statements I never assumed, that Potter had been the one to put his name into the Goblet. To cheat the Goblet's magic was far out of his reach even with the help of Granger and Greengrass. No, some other person did it and remembering Albus reaction in the whole matter it guessed that he had been part of it or at least knew the culprit.

Minerva took a sip of her tea, certainly to allow her some seconds to soothe her voice: "Any idea why he could be interested in that?"

I shrugged: "Simple nosiness perhaps. And he has a legit interest in the welfare of the Greengrass girls with the younger one being Draco's fiancée."

Minerva forced a small smile and nodded, taking another sip of her tea. Quite the right moment too make a shot in the dark.

"Or he's still looking for a way to get rid of Albus."

Her reaction was quite clear. Coughing, spitting, and trying to cover up with a glare that would have contained far more hate only a month ago. So that was it all about: Someone wanted to get rid of him. Nothing new in itself, but apparently some teachers was part of this. _Even Minerva_, I wondered. She had always been Albus' staunchest supporter; even in those cases she obviously hated his decisions. I remembered quite well the days after the 'Shrieking Shack event'. She had been furious about Albus' decision not to expel Black. But in the end she had conceded as always. And more than once I had been witness of a fierce shouting match between them regarding Potter's welfare. In the end she had obeyed – every single time.

What had changed her stance? What had convinced her to switch sides? What had happened?

And what did this mean to me? How should I react, which side should I chose? For the first time since fifteen years I was at a loss.

.

_Same Place – same time (Hermione's POV)_

.

"Your article was brilliant, Luna."

Luna showed me a dazzling smile. Over the last months the friendship between us had been growing with every day. Since I opened up to her ideas – allowing myself to believe some of them and avoiding to be as harsh as before about her more ridiculous ones – I had been able to see this other side of her, the side Harry apparently detected months before me. I was willing now to accept, that Luna saw more than others. And perhaps a few of her 'creatures' were only her very special way to describe to us something she saw, because we wouldn't understand otherwise; like I would have trouble to describe colors to a blind man.

"Thank you. I really like to write about Daphne and Harry. And luckily Colin had a few photos to add."

Harry groaned and hid his face behind his hands, while Neville, Daphne and I exchanged amused smiles. Colin had been Harry's official photographer for a few weeks now. He had nearly fainted when the letter from Roxanne arrived, telling him that only he was allowed to take photos of Harry and Daphne from then on. A copy had been sent to the Daily Prophet, certainly causing more than one apoplexy. To my regret Skeeter hadn't died from shock.

"_Colin is a real good boy," Harry had explained. "And he's a good photographer. But his family isn't very well off. Selling photos of me could be his chance to get a foundation for his later job."_

Nobody doubted that photographer would be Colin's vocation after Hogwarts. And the pictures had been really good. Some of them, taken at the second task, had found their way into the Quibbler and – some days later – into the Daily Prophet. Others found their way into the ever growing collections of Harry and Daphne.

"I really liked the picture with Harry kissing Daphne after the apology," I smirked, enjoying Harry's squirming perhaps a tad too much. He glared at me but nodded when Neville remarked how he liked the other picture, showing Daphne casting her Patronus. "I'm sure that from now on no Patronus will be as famous as Daphne's."

For a moment we stopped the happy banter when Viktor Krum entered the Hall. Following Harry's plan we had convinced Madam Pomfrey to examine all four Champions. A flushing potion had been part of that examination and as expected – or should I say 'as feared' – the reaction had been immediate. I still didn't know what exactly Harry said to Viktor afterwards but Daphne received a secretly written apology the next day.

Since then Viktor had slowly changed his behavior. To a neutral observer it must have looked like he was getting over his crush for Daphne – or as if he was overcoming the effect of the love potion. As a precaution he took another flushing potion every day, in case that 'someone' tried to apply a new potion. But apparently the idea to set Viktor up with Daphne had come to an end, with the feelings of Harry and Daphne quite clear and now in a way official through Daphne's oath.

"Confundus Animus Potion," I mumbled. That had been the name of the potion in Viktor's blood stream, according to Poppy's examination. She had sent a blood sample to Agatha and her colleague had confirmed the result.

"Grandma wrote me about that potion," Daphne whispered. "It is a very complex potion, way above NEWT level. According to her Potion Master only two people at Hogwarts should be able to brew such a potion."

I nodded, shortly looking at Snape. He was one of those two but he had no reason to meddle with Daphne. So this only left the Headmaster, renowned Alchemist even before his time at Hogwarts. Had it really been three and a half year ago, that I read that Chocolate Frog Card about him and his reputation as an alchemist?

.

"{You should be more careful,}" Harry's voice scolded us in our minds. "{Such words are better not spoken, but merely thought.}"

Blushing with embarrassment I nodded. This was still too new for me, but he was right. Since the weekend of the second task we had been able to exchange our thoughts. We hadn't even to hold hands anymore but only to sit within ten feet with a clear line of sight. It was still a bit difficult to switch between speaking aloud and in mind, but we got better. Most of the time we spoke normal to not arouse suspicion. But in moments like this mind-speech would have been the better choice.

Luna looked around with a dreamy expression and smiled at me. She couldn't know about the mind-speech, we hadn't told her. But still I was certain that somehow she knew nonetheless.

"{I think Luna knows about our mind-speech.}"

"{Perhaps,}" Harry agreed. "{She's really perceptive.}"

"{I would like to tell her about it – and Susan and Padma too, perhaps Tracey and Blaise.}"

"{Maybe – I'll write Mother and ask her.}"

.

"In the next edition we'll publish Viktor's apology, father wrote me."

I nodded. According to our plan of 'Viktor's slow change for the better' his statement about the whole affair would only be published a few weeks after the task. We wanted to avoid any new rumors about the love potion. Even with Daphne's oath there would certainly still be more than enough people who believed Skeeter's silly ideas, especially if it became known that a love potion had been found in his blood.

"That's good," Daphne commented without much interest. Instead her eyes followed Ron and Ginny as they left the Hall, concern in her eyes. She still was more than a bit interested in Ginny's welfare, despite her anger after the task. Perhaps it shouldn't have been a surprise to me how fast she was willing to accept that Ginny hadn't any choice in the hostage issue. After our return from Pinegrew Manor she bade me to teach her the tracking and monitoring spells I had used on her. Two times since then I noticed her casting those spells on Ginny. Harry had stayed silent about the matter, unwilling to start a new fight with his girlfriend.

_It's important to her, that's all I have to know to accept it_. Since when had my best friend become so grown up?

Daphne didn't explain. I didn't ask. She'll tell me in time.

.

Luna had just left us together with Colin. They wanted to choose the pictures for the next article.

"They're a cute couple," Neville commented and he was right about it. Thoughtfully I watched them disappear. I had never thought about that before, but a boyfriend could really be something good for her. While her housemates behaved better than before, she still had only a very small number of friends. And far too often older students harassed her.

"Looney," I whispered, feeling my eyes to get wet. "How could I ever call her that?"

Neville hugged me. "You made an error, but you learned. You were strong and honest enough to correct your behavior. And I think she really likes you now."

I nodded weakly and put my head on Neville's shoulder, ignoring the glares from some Slytherins and Gryffindors. "Luna is the nicest girl I ever met," I remarked after a while. "We should really spend more time with her. And we should set her up with a boyfriend."

Neville and Harry groaned, not liking my 'girly idea' in the least. But Daphne nodded with a broad grin and that was all that mattered.

.

_Hogwarts – Office of Professor McGonagall – 8__th__ of March_

.

"This was," Fred started.

"Really undeserved," George finished.

Both twins were glaring at Minerva McGonagall, their eyes speaking about the injustice of the world. To be called to her office because of a small, completely insignificant prank. Hadn't they controlled their pranking souls at Valentine's Day? Yes, the simple reason had been Fred's wish to impress Angelina with his adult behavior. And there had been his gloomy mood after they heard about Harry's detention. If someone deserved a nice Valentine it certainly was Harry and Daphne. Even Angelina – at the beginning of the school year not Daphne's greatest fan – labeled them a cute pair. But nonetheless: They had allowed everyone a prank-free Valentine's Day.

Perhaps after that the twins had a bit overstepped the line with their 'Viktor-pranking'. But, Merlin, did the git deserve it. He had been the reason for Harry's detention. With broad smiles they had watched Harry blasting the prat into oblivion. It was moments like this, that they were proud and happy to be his friends. Within seconds Harry positioned himself at the top of their secret list of 'students we don't want to mess with', even above Angelina – in Fred's case – and Daphne, who had really impressed them with her deadly streak and imaginative mind.

But since the second task they had slowed down again, allowing the Durmstrang git to breathe freely for a few days without anything funny happening to him. The hair-coloring today had only served as a little reminder that he wasn't completely forgiven. And the orange curls had fitted perfectly, in their opinion.

With the sense of a growing lump in their stomach the twins watched Professor McGonagall as she took a paper from a drawer of her desk.

"Let's have a look …

"15th of February: Viktor Krum hexed to speak with a squeaky voice.

"16th of February: Viktor Krum poisoned with a laxative."

"Must have been something …"

"… in the pudding." Both twins showed their most innocent smiles.

Minerva only glared at them, before she continued:

"18th of February: Spiced Viktor Krum's tea with tasteless alcohol."

"These Durmstrang students …"

"… are so irresponsible."

"20th of February …"

She continued for a while, interrupted by a number of explanations and excuses from the twins, listing a total of fourteen pranks on Krum and five additional on Nott. Their faces were a bit pale now and they exchanged concerned looks. "We're in deep trouble," George mouthed and Fred slowly nodded.

"Yes, you are," Minerva growled. "Nineteen pranks within three weeks, a number of those doing bodily harm. I know that you don't really care about detention or loss of points. But this would be enough to expel you from the Quidditch team for the rest of your time at Hogwarts."

"No, you can't …"

"… do that." The twins pleaded.

They were the masters of detention and house points had been unimportant since Harry belonged to Gryffindor – and Hermione. Since her friendship with Daphne Greengrass the formerly bushy-haired Gryffindor had started to reap even more points for her house. But to lose Quidditch was to lose the sole reason to remain at Hogwarts. They really hoped for a last eventful Quidditch Season next year, their seventh and last year at Hogwarts. Certainly she wouldn't be that cruel.

"Please, Minnie …"

"… have a heart."

Thoughtful Minerva McGonagall watched the twins fidgeting in their chairs. She had watched them for weeks. And now it was time to close in for the kill.

"We could find a way out perhaps. Under certain conditions I could be willing to … to lose this list. You know: Sometimes I'm so glad about something that I simply forget everything else." She winked – Minerva McGonagall really winked. Fred was shocked to watch it.

"Yes, sometimes it's …"

"… the same with us." The twins hastily agreed.

"What could it be …"

"… that would make you so happy?"

Minerva stared at them. Was she really willing to hire the twins? And hire them to do 'this' for her? But she needed help. It was important to know your own abilities as well as your limits. And this job demanded a very special skill, a knack for secrecy and deception, something these two pranksters had shown often enough in the past. She sighed deeply.

"I require your help in obtaining something for me. Obtain it without attracting attention …"

.

"I can't believe it."

Fred exclaimed on their way back to the Gryffindor dorm.

"But it was for real apparently."

George responded, waving Minerva's list.

"This will be …"

"… fun …"

"… interesting …"

"… dangerous …"

"… and a complete new level …"

"… of pranking."

The twins grinned at each other. This demanded some serious planning.

.

_Pinegrew Manor – 11__th__ of March – Saturday afternoon_

.

Someone entered the room but Roxanne's eyes never left his face, the face of Severus Snape. He was in a restless sleep still, tossing about in the bed in one of the manor's guest rooms. Sweat was on his forehead, the eyes flickering. His high body temperature was concerning her.

"What happened?"

"Anne, Merlin, good you're here. I … I really don't know. It all started completely ordinary …"

.

A few hours ago Professor Severus Snape had entered Pinegrew Manor as appointed. From the beginning it had been obvious to Roxanne, that Snape knew about 'The Dumbledore Pact', knew about something going on to remove him from Hogwarts. His questions and insinuations made his interest quite clear. But she simply didn't know what his agenda was in the matter. Was he asking as Dumbledore's spy? Was he asking as Lucius' friend? Or did he have his very own reasons? So she had tried to avoid the issue and concentrated on the picture instead.

Roxanne had been relieved to hear that he was willing to share his memories. "I know, Severus, that we … Sirius, Remus and I … have not a very realistic view in the matter. Lily and James had been our friends and we mostly remember their good sides. We hoped you and Petunia would add another point of view. Harry deserves to know about his parents, but it should be a realistic view, not something silly like from a children's storybook."

"I don't know if he really wants to see my side of the matter, especially about his father, but I'll do it."

So Roxanne had prepared the spell and watched him when Severus transferred his memories to the picture.

.

"It was weird from the beginning. You know how it looks when someone pulls a memory from his mind. It's kind of silvery thread. But his had a golden hue, not silvery. And it seemed to exhaust him much more than it did to Sirius and me. I didn't want to interrupt the process. I don't know enough about it to estimate, if it would hurt him to be violently separated. But suddenly he yelled in pain. Seconds later he was on the ground – unconscious."

"I see." Anne responded, looking at the Potion Master with a thoughtful look. A golden hue was a sure sign of 'pure memories', a kind of memory that was too clear, too simple to really happen in life. Sometimes it happened when someone experienced a shock and his mind tried to cope with it. But in most circumstances it was a sign of someone meddling with a memory. A mind alteration – irrespective of how skillful the caster was – could never be as complex and 'true' as a real memory. And with what had happened to the teenagers, it was a sure bet to assume that something similar had happened to Snape too.

"You assume someone meddled with his mind?" Roxanne more stated than asked.

Anne nodded. "I would know for sure, if he allows me to examine his mind."

"No," it was only a whisper. "Nobody …" Already exhausted Snape closed his eyes again.

Roxanne patted his arm: "Alright, Severus. It is your mind, your decision. You're safe with me."

Seconds later he was asleep again.

.

"_I don't need your help, Mudblood."_

_With tears in her eyes the redhead turned around, unwilling to look into the face of the boy who had been her friend for more than a decade. How could he do this to her? How could he behave like this? Yes, James and Sirius had been disgusting. But she had only tried to help him. _

_Without looking back Lily ran away._

.

_The smirk on Black's face was more than he could endure. _

_Potter and Lupin were at his side, sharing the expression, watching him, daring him to go against the Headmaster's decision. Lucius had been right: There was no justice for a Slytherin at Hogwarts. They would walk away in freedom, unpunished for their deed, unpunished for nearly killing him. _

_The Headmaster had forbidden him to speak about the Shrieking Shack, forbid to tell anyone that Lupin was a Werewolf. "If you'll go against my wishes, I'll have to obliviate you." That he dared to show his usual grandfather smile and his disgusting eye twinkle had been the icing on the cake of injustice._

_He would keep silent about it. But he would never forget. He would never forgive._

.

"_Yes, it's your fault that she died, Severus. There's no doubt about it. But you can try to atone for your deeds. You can fight at my side for the Greater Good. Make her proud, Severus. I'm certain that one day Lily will forgive you."_

_He had come to Albus' office after he heard about her death. He never wanted this. Yes, he hated James; he hated their child – because it was Potter's son and not his own. But he never hated her. Why had he never been able to apologize to her? He wished she had accepted, he wished she had forgiven. Now it was too late. The boy would live with his Aunt. _

_The boy, that was responsible for her death._

.

_Pinegrew Manor – 12__th__ of March – Sunday morning_

.

"Do you remember what happened, Severus?"

Roxanne was sitting at his side with Anne farther away to watch the scene without disturbing them. Severus was still not completely awake, but he looked far better after a night of sleep.

"Pain," he whispered. "There was pain. My head …" His voice stumbled. Suddenly tears started to fill his eyes. "I called her Mudblood, Roxanne. She was my only friend before Hogwarts. She was the one that allowed me to survive my childhood, my father. I lost her."

Roxanne gently brushed away the sweat and tears from his face with a piece of linen. "I'm sure she understood your pain, Severus. I'm sure she forgave you."

"She never …" He stopped, grabbed at his temples, a moan of pain leaving his throat. Pictures were running through his mind, pictures of a seventeen-year-old Lily glaring at him, denying him any chance to apologize. But other pictures were mixing with them, pictures of a grown up Lily, a bundle in her arms. _"It's my son, Severus."_

"They didn't allow her to speak with me." _They_ had been Black, Lupin and Potter. Always ready to intercept him, always ready to step in between. He only wanted to speak with her, tell her how sorry he was. But Lily only glared.

"They nearly killed me. Potter knew. Lupin knew. They tricked me into a life debt. It was Potter's plan from the beginning."

"No, Severus. I've spoken with Sirius and Remus. Sirius made a grave error. He should have been punished for it, he should have been expelled. But only he knew about it. James wanted to rescue you. Yes, certainly he wanted to protect his friends too, especially Remus. But it wasn't his plan to trick you into a life debt. And Remus had no choice in the matter. He didn't ask to be changed into a Werewolf. He only wants to have a life. Remus would have been destroyed learning about biting you. Remus is a good guy. He's my friend – as are you."

Severus wanted to speak, wanted to deny, but again he felt a wave of pain crushing through his head. Roxanne sensed magic emanating from him, again like a few minutes ago. She glanced in Anne's direction but the woman showed only keen interest, not betraying any other emotion.

"_I'm sorry, Severus." The boy stood in front of his bed in the Hospital, his face very pale, his body trembling with exhaustion. Severus wondered why he never before had seen the signs: The sudden 'diseases' every month, the exhaustion afterwards._

"_We aren't friends. Perhaps we'll never be. But I never wanted to hurt you. If nothing else you're still in Lily's heart and at least because of her I would never willingly attack you. Please forgive me."_

"No", Severus yelled. "This never happened. He was part of the plan. He wanted to hurt me."

Totally shaken Roxanne watched him. What was happening with him? What was troubling his mind? She really wanted to help, but without his allowance there wasn't much she could do. "Severus, please calm down."

To her relief he slowly slipped into sleep again. A last time he whispered: "They wanted to hurt me. She never forgave me. It was my fault."

.

_**A/N**_

_This chapter was a bit shorter, but I wanted to have the next events in their own chapter. It will be about a damsel in distress._

_Whom would you like to see with Luna? Colin would be the most "natural" choice. Any other ideas? Perhaps even one of the girls? _

_Any idea what Minerva could want the twins to do for her?_

_The part about Snape is perhaps a bit difficult to read, because there are many dream/memory sequences in it. To clarify it: There are in parts two memories about the same incident struggling to be the dominating one. _


	38. Chapter 38 Damsel in Distress

**A/N**

_Don't worry! Paragraphs written in "__**first person**__" will remain an exception. And you've been right: There wasn't enough Daphne/Harry quality time in the last chapters. _

_This chapter will be a bit disturbing perhaps, but remember: I don't write tragedy. I hope the chapter won't be too weird. It was difficult to write. With 7,5k words it is a longer one, but perhaps still not long (and detailed) enough._

_._

**Damsel in Distress**

.

_Hogwarts – Black Lake – 12th of March – Afternoon_

.

Hissing angrily Crookshanks chased Balou along the shore of the Black Lake under a clear blue sky. While Crookshanks was bigger and stronger, Balou was younger, faster and nimbler. The large piece of sausage he had snitched from the older tomcat only seconds ago slowed him down a bit and it was thrilling to watch who would win the crazy hunt around bushes and smaller trees.

"You should have given Balou his own piece of sausage," Daphne scolded her boyfriend, her head leaning on his shoulder, her arm around his waist while they walked along.

Harry laughed. "He had his own a few minutes ago. He's simply too greedy for his own good. Perhaps I should have named him Ron instead." He really liked the feeling of her body against his chest. And he loved to tease her.

Daphne stopped and glared at him: "That's not funny, Mister Potter. Balou certainly doesn't deserve to be … umpf."

Harry stopped her with a passionate kiss. He really loved how he was able to prompt this other side of her personality to come out, this emotional and less controlled side. And her eyes started to glitter when he enraged her.

"Mister Potter, you're …"

He deepened the embrace and placed another, deeper kiss on her lips. In the beginning he had proposed this long walk around the Lake to distract her. Daphne had been restless the whole morning, and he wanted to take her mind off things. But now, with her body pressed against him, he congratulated himself to this splendid idea. "We're far too seldom alone," he whispered, staring at her slightly puffy lips.

"We should correct that fault," Daphne agreed with a coy smile. She didn't know why she had been so uneasy this morning. But she felt much better now. It was a very nice spring afternoon and even both cats seemed to enjoy the difference to the former cold winter weather. Slowly they followed the cats, both teenagers deep in thoughts.

Harry hugged her with one arm, comparing the feeling to the few times he had hugged Hermione. His friend had been the first to hug him and still was the only girl allowed to do this aside Daphne. But while Hermione was all soft and feminine under her loose robes, Daphne had a very well-shaped body. Small but trained muscles all along, making her a sight to behold in her swim suit or when he watched her performing gymnastics. Despite all academic hardship she still enforced at least two runs a week around the lake and tried hard to spend at least a few hours with other sports. Harry especially loved to watch her at the asymmetric bars, this mix of grace, agility and power was incredible and far too arousing to allow him to read on – his standard excuse if he joined her in the gym.

"Has Mum written about Professor Snape's visit?" Her soft voice broke his daydreaming.

"No," Harry answered, shrugging slightly. "I hope all went well." He knew that Roxanne had invited Snape the day ago, so the transfer should have been finished by now.

"He wasn't at breakfast or lunch."

"I noticed it too. Perhaps he needed more time," Harry wondered, not really expecting it to be true. He knew from the other teachers that they had only needed one or two hours to part with their memories – depending on how long they had known his parents. "I'm still surprised that he agreed to do this for me."

Daphne flinched a bit, not much but enough for Harry to notice. "Do you know something about his decision?"

"Maybe," Daphne whispered. She knew exactly why Snape had agreed, but wasn't certain about Harry's reaction to the matter. Snape had asked her to spare Nott, and to finish Harry's picture was far more important to her than some senseless punishment of a brainless prat.

"Maybe?" Harry grinned. "Come one, please tell me. I was wondering about it for weeks now. Did you know that he even agreed to accompany me to Aunt Petunia? Apparently he knew not only my mother but Aunt Petunia too. He'll try to convince her to part with her memories too."

"Oh, that's good, isn't it?" Daphne watched the cats for a while and stayed silent, averting Harry's eyes until he gently nudged her.

"Tell me, I won't get angry, I promise."

"Alright," Daphne groaned slightly. "You're a little nuisance sometimes; you know that, Mister Potter?"

"But a good kissing nuisance," he grinned back.

"Oh, a little full of our self, are we now?"

"No, only realistic." He moved to kiss her again, but Daphne stopped him with her hands on his chest. Her face was very serious now, when she whispered: "I made a deal with him."

Harry blinked: "A deal? With Snape? What kind of deal?"

Daphne sighed: "You know that Lucius Malfoy is a close friend to Professor Snape?"

Harry nodded. He had seen them both together quite often and as far as he knew Snape was even Draco Malfoy's godfather.

"Apparently Nott senior is a close friend of Malfoy too, and he bade Snape to assure, that Theo Nott is allowed to stay at Hogwarts despite his attack on me. Knowing about your temper and protectiveness, Snape had qualms about your reaction. I promised him that you wouldn't hurt Nott, if he agrees to transfer his memories."

Baffled Harry watched his girlfriend. That was certainly unexpected. Anxiously Daphne awaited his reaction. "But he hurt you? He should have been punished, expelled like his cronies."

"I know. And I'm happy that you and the twins found another way to get back at him. But other things are more important. You are more important to me. I know what this picture means to you and I thought …"

Again he stopped her with a kiss, this one even more passionate than the last one. "Thank you, Daphne." The little anger he felt about letting Nott go unpunished was washed away by happy feelings. _You are more important to me._

.

After their round around the Lake they had parted ways. Harry wanted to spend some time with his old friend Hagrid. He knew how much the evil articles about him, written by Skeeter two months ago, had troubled the half-giant. _He's a danger to our children, _Skeeter had written. _What nonsense_.

Normally Daphne would have accompanied him, but her uneasiness had returned and she simply hadn't the nerve to sit in Hagrid's hut, sipping tea and comforting him. So she decided to walk back to her dorm and read something in her new books.

With a sigh she followed the cats towards the castle. _Another kiss would be nice_.

.

_Hogwarts – Gryffindor Tower – Same Time_

.

Fred was sitting on a couch in the Gryffindor common room with Angelina at his side. His girlfriend was a bit miffed at the moment because since a few minutes he was ignoring her advances. Normally Fred needed only the slightest hint to start a snogging session with her. He had been her boyfriend for more than four months now, and it was a rare moment that she regretted her decision. Even now she didn't really, because she understood his concern. She understood, but she hadn't to like the reason.

Fred was watching his twin brother. For more than an hour George had been sitting near the window, trying to write a letter to their father. A dozen wadded sheets of parchment were lying around, testimony to his wish but also to the fruitlessness of his efforts. How did you explain to your father, that you feared for the mental sanity of your baby sister? How could you tell him, that you wanted him to stop your mother from influencing her?

They had spoken with Molly after the second task. They had sent her letters – pleaded, demanded, threatened. It had been to no avail. Molly was unwilling to realize that her influence was more hurting than helping, that it would be better to leave Ginny alone. Perhaps once upon a time Ginny wanted to be Harry's girlfriend. Perhaps she wanted it even now – some odd corner of her heart at least. But Fred was certain that Ginny – in contrary to her mother – understood how close Harry had become to Daphne and that all plans could only end in one way: Hurt and tears.

Someone opened the door to the common room and the target of his thoughts entered, her brother Ron close behind. Ginny's face was a heart-breaking mix of despair, sorrow and pain. Looking down to avoid the eyes of her twin brothers she rushed towards the stairs to the girls' dorm. Should they follow her? Fred and George knew how to circumvent the 'stairs-trap' – something they never shared with their brothers. But perhaps …

"I'll look after her," Angelina whispered and left. Her relation to Ginny hadn't been as close as before the 'Balou incident' in the last months, but following Fred's wishes she had tried hard to be Ginny's friend again.

"What happened?" George's growl was frightening. Turning around Fred saw his twin pouncing on their younger brother.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Ron pouted and tried to circumvent his brother.

George's hand at his collar stopped him. "Don't give me that bull." Fred felt light shivers on his back. George – nice, calm George – was frightening in his rage. Fred knew that his brother wished he had done more for Ginny, wished he had tried harder to stop Molly months ago. And with each passing day his anger towards Ron grew. How could he agree with her plans for Ginny? They knew that Ron not only agreed but even helped Molly; that he even spied on her.

George shoved his brother against the wall. It was deadly silent in the room. Nobody wanted to mess with the twins, especially not in a mood like this. "What happened? I don't ask a third time." George snarled.

"Mo … mother sent a letter this morning."

For a moment George closed his eyes and took a deep breath without loosening his grip. "And?"

"She … she wanted Ginny to … to …"

George pulled him away from the wall only to slam him against it a second later. "Spill it out!" Fred winced, but didn't interfere. What happened to Ron was no more than he deserved.

"She wanted Ginny to visit the Headmaster. We've been with him for the last hour."

"For what reason?"

Ron looked around. "George … not here … let's go …"

George interrupted him by slamming him against the wall for another time. "For what reason?" His voice was pure ice now and Ron realized the danger.

"He wanted to speak with her about ways to separate Harry from that snake-bitch."

Fast and heavy was the hit of George's fist into Ron's gut. With a yell of pain he slumped to the ground. "Never again call her that. Daphne is Harry's girlfriend. She is our friend. Merlin, she saved Hermione's life."

"George, no, he's not worth it." Fred's voice stopped George from kicking his own brother. Breathing heavily he demanded: "Stay away from us. Stay the hell away from Ginny or you'll pay." Without looking back he walked back to his seat and continued to write his letter.

"She doesn't want to speak with me," Angelina whispered into Fred's ear. Her eyes didn't leave Ron and they showed no pity with him. "I'll try later again."

Fred hugged her and whispered back: "Thank you."

.

"She doesn't open her door."

Hermione slumped into the chair with a deep frown on her face. After their return to the Gryffindor tower, Fred had told her and Neville about Ginny's talk with the Headmaster, and she had been furious to hear about his newest meddling. _It's really time to get rid of him_. Hermione was a bit surprised by herself. She had always been the 'nice student', obeying and respecting her teachers and looking up to Minerva and the Headmaster like icons. And now she couldn't get lost of him soon enough. Since Valentine's Day he even surpassed Professor Snape and Draco Malfoy on her hate-list. While both used every chance to insult her and especially Snape judged her very unfairly – even now with his behavior slightly improved since Christmas – they at least didn't mess with their students' private life.

After Fred's news she went to Ginny's dorm and wanted to speak with her. But apparently the redhead not only locked but also silenced the door. Apart from breaking through, this left only to wait for Ginny to leave the room, hopefully for Dinner.

And when Ginny showed her face, Hermione would be there for her.

.

The tears were long gone, her tear glands dried out. Her eyes were puffy and red, but she didn't see this because she avoided looking into the mirror.

_It is a beautiful spring afternoon_, Ginny mused. Why can't they allow me to simply enjoy such a day? Why can't they leave me alone? Her eyes followed the boy on his way from Hagrid's hut back to the Castle. He would be here within a few minutes. The twins would tell him. Would he come? Would he want to speak with her like Angelina and Hermione before? She knew that they had been there in front of her door, but she had no wish to see anyone. They couldn't help her. Nobody could help her.

She had lost every single friend she had before. Hermione, Neville, and even Luna avoided her. The Quidditch team had evicted her months ago and Angelina only wanted to be polite because of Fred. The twins – yes, they still loved her as did Charlie, but they couldn't help. For a few days she had hoped, hoped to be free after the second task. But then the letters started again. And now even the Headmaster wanted to mess with her. She couldn't understand why he wanted to deny Harry his luck. He was happy. Didn't he deserve to be happy? Even, if it was without her?

Ginny knew that she did not deserve to be happy. She had been the one to free the Basilisk two years ago, nearly killing Hermione and a few others. And she had been so awful to Harry and Daphne this year. Ginny deserved to be punished, but not Harry. But the Headmaster wouldn't allow him to be happy with Daphne, not while Ginny was there, not while Dumbledore had hopes to set her up with Harry. She had to end this. She didn't want to be guilty for his pain anymore. She didn't want to be guilty for splitting her family, for setting Arthur against Molly or Ron against the twins.

This would be her atonement.

It would be her little part in bestowing a life of happiness to Harry.

She only hoped that her letter did explain. She only wished that Harry would remember her as the friend she had been and not the enemy of the past months.

But at least she would be free of pain. No more pain.

Ginny opened the small vial.

.

_**Hogwarts – Library **_

.

She had been sitting in the library for a while now. At first she had tried to read her new book about healing spells in her dorm, but with each passing minute her uneasiness had been growing. Trying to distract her troubled mind, she had been wandering around the library, glancing at this book or perusing that tome. It didn't help. What was happening to her? Why was she unable to concentrate?

Suddenly she heard a small chime. Miss Pince frowned in her direction and Daphne needed some seconds to grasp that she had been the source of the sound – she or better the small silver ring she was wearing, enchanted to …

_Ginny!_ The ring was the anchor of the monitoring spell she had cast on Ginny. Merlin, Daphne paled, steadied herself as she realized what happened. Another chime, a third …

"Miss Greengrass, I really have to be adamant that …" Miss Pince watched flabbergasted Daphne leaving the library, more sprinting than jogging, shoving chairs away and ignoring the stares of the few present students.

Daphne silenced the ring, but the color – an ugly grey now – told her enough about the condition of the monitoring spell's target. Suddenly she stopped. _I have to inform Madam Pomfrey_.

"Expecto Patronum!" Nothing happened.

"Expecto Patronum!" She tried harder, tried to calm herself.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!" She was in tears now. No happy thought was able to break through her concern.

A few students looked at her, their expressions telling her that they thought her to be mad. But that was unimportant. She started to run again, reached the stairs to the tower. Pling! With a last sound the ring stopped its work. Shocked Daphne missed a step, nearly lost her stance on the stairs. The ring broke asunder, small pieces and silver-grey dust trickling to the ground.

"Open!" She yelled when she reached the entrance of the tower. No Gryffindor was in sight to ask for the password or to be sent in.

"By no means, Slytherin" the Fat Lady answered in a haughty voice.

"Please, it's a medical emergency."

"You certainly don't expect me to believe you, young lady."

"OPEN!" Daphne lost her last bit of composure, looking around: Still no Gryffindor in sight.

"Countenance, young lady, is …"

"GET OUT OF YOUR PICTURE," Daphne commanded, pulling out her wand, targeting it at the frightened Fat Lady, who all too well remembered the attack of Sirius Black only one year ago.

"3 … 2 … 1 … BOMBARDA MAXIMA!"

In the last moment the Fat Lady left her frame, before Daphne spell hit it, destroyed it together with the wall behind the picture, blasting a hole into the door large enough to allow her to pass through.

"Where is Ginny?"

Shocked stares greeted her from all sides. Perhaps some of the Gryffindors would have retaliated by force but quite now everyone was simply too stunned.

"Where is Ginny?"

Luckily Hermione at least reacted. She noticed the empty slot on Daphne's ring finger, didn't dare to think about the meaning of it. She pointed towards the stairs. "In her room, she locked herself in." Hermione was the first to follow Daphne when she raced up the stairs, the twins following two heartbeats later, hastily circumventing the trap that normally forbid any boy from using it.

"Open it." When the twins reached the door of Ginny's room, they saw a panicked Daphne, fumbling with the door. Hastily Hermione broke through the locking spell and rushed behind Daphne into the room, only to stop again after a few steps when her eyes landed on the small figure, lying on the ground near the window, curled-up like some old clothes. George smashed into her and both went to the ground, while Daphne hurried at Ginny's side.

"Ginny!" Fred yelled.

"Put her on the bed," Daphne ordered and started to cast some examination spells.

Fred, when he stepped at his sister's side, kicked something away that caught Hermione's eye. Hastily she fetched it, sniffed at the vial.

"What is it? What happened to her?" George was barely able to constrain himself, allowing Daphne to work.

"Some kind of sleeping draught, but it smells wrong – like it's contaminated." Hermione noticed that Daphne fetched a Bezoar from her robe and banished it into Ginny's stomach.

_She is so pale_, Hermione noticed. _Is she breathing? God, she isn't breathing_.

"We have to carry her to Madam Pomfrey as fast as possible." Daphne commanded.

George nodded and lifted his sister. _Carrying would take too long_, Hermione mused. "Wait," She stopped him: "Use Ciddy."

Daphne paled another shade. _Why didn't I think earlier about Ciddy_? "Ciddy!"

A second later a loud plop announced the arrival of her house elf. "Ciddy, bring us to the Hospital."

It didn't even cross Ciddy's mind to tell her mistress, that she wasn't allowed to do this. Only the House Masters and the Headmaster were allowed to use the House-Elf port within Hogwarts. She simply grabbed the arms of George – who was still wearing Ginny – and Daphne and ported away. Seconds later she returned to fetch Hermione and Fred.

.

_**Hogwarts – Hospital Wing**_

.

"I'm so sorry. I can't help her."

The four teenagers stared at Madam Pomfrey in disbelief. _This can't be. This simply can't be_. It went on an on in Hermione's mind. _Madam Pomfrey can heal everything. She even healed me from petrification in second year_.

"The bezoar neutralized the remaining poison, but it was too late. Her heart had already stopped, her magical core had abandoned to heal her. My magic can't help her anymore." Madam Pomfrey was very pale herself. It was a very rare case that she lost a student, and every time it left her devastated. But healing magic needed an active magical core to work with. Without the support of Ginny's core she didn't react better to spells and potions than a Muggle.

"You can't give up," Fred pleaded.

"You simply must help her," George begged.

Hermione watched the twins in silence, her heart breaking. She understood what Madam Pomfrey told them, but that didn't help. _Why didn't I break through the door the first time? Why did I wait_? She wished she could help, wished she could turn back the clock. But she had no time-turner anymore and the Ministry would deny to give her a new one to rescue a little girl. _Ginny …_

"Wait," Daphne interjected. "You said her magical core stopped to work. So if we help her core to restart working …"

Madam Pomfrey nodded, realizing a second too late what Daphne was speaking about. "No, you can't seriously propose …"

"We can help her," Daphne turned towards the twins. After a second she added: "We can at least try."

"No, you can't. You can't use the spell like that." Madam Pomfrey tried to stop her. "It's far too dangerous."

"Wha … what …"

"… Are you speaking about?" The twins stuttered.

"I used this spell once and it worked." Daphne remarked towards Poppy.

The nurse wasn't convinced: "But this is different. Ginny is dead." Hermione sobbed.

Daphne cast a few spells and a pale red light lingered around Ginny's body. "Not completely, Poppy. Her soul is still there, her brain is still working. Please, we have to try it at least. We can't simply give up. But we have to act fast; we have only minutes before it's too late."

"Daphne, it's too risky. And you aren't blood-related to her."

"But Fred and George are. It's even better because they are two donators, and very equal to each other in strength and power. I can draw on their magic very evenly. They are nearly seventeen, their cores are steady. We have a chance." Daphne tried to sound as convincing as possible. Yes, two magical batteries, nearly the same in kind and power, would be far better in helping to 'restart' Ginny's core. What she didn't want to think or even speak about was the risk for her own core and health. If she didn't handle the magical energies correctly – no, she had to try. It wasn't Ginny's fault, she didn't deserve to die.

"What can we do?" It was no surprise that Fred was the first of the brothers to trust her, but George followed only a second later.

"It's a blood-healing spell. I used it to help my sister after Viktor's curse. It will connect your cores to Ginny's. If all goes well, you'll kick her core and heart to work again. After that Poppy can help her to heal."

"Do it."

"Fred," Daphne struggled to calm herself as well as the brothers. "Madam Pomfrey is correct: It's very risky for you. If we don't succeed in helping Ginny, you both could damage your own magical cores. You would lose a part of your magic forever."

Fred stared intensely into her eyes. "Do you think that there is a real chance to rescue her?"

"Yes," Daphne answered with a sigh. "I think we can bring her back."

Fred looked at his brother and George nodded. "Then do it. We trust you."

Daphne showed a small smile and nodded. When she led the twins towards Ginny, Madam Pomfrey tried to stop her. "I can't allow this, Daphne. It's simply too risky."

Like in slow-motion Hermione watched the scene, saw Poppy drawing her wand to enforce her will, to stop Daphne. Suddenly a spell hit the nurse, bound her, and made her helpless to watch the following events. Only when Daphne and the twins stared at her, did Hermione realize that she had her own wand in her hand. _I just attacked Madam Pomfrey_. Her mind and heart not really able to grasp this turn of events, she said unnaturally calm: "Go on, Daphne."

Harry's black-haired girlfriend nodded curtly and spun around.

She had a spell to cast.

.

_**Somewhere**_

.

She was calm. No more pain was troubling her. _Shouldn't there be a light?_ _Where I am_? Ginny wondered. She didn't breath anymore. She didn't feel her blood pounding through her veins. _I am dead_, Ginny realized, surprised that she didn't feel relieved about it but miserable.

_Why am I not happy? Shouldn't I? Mum can't push me anymore. Dumbledore can't use me anymore to make Harry unhappy. It is better for everyone, isn't it?_

"Ginny?"

_Wha … what? That can't be_, Ginny thought confused.

"Ginny?"

She knew the voice, but she had been certain to hear it never again.

"Ginny, please," someone grabbed her arm, turned her around.

"Fred? George?" tears shot into her eyes. _I'm going crazy. Yes, that it is. I'm imaging things, that can't be._

Two pairs of arms surrounded her, pressed her small frame against their larger bodies. She felt their warmth, felt their pounding hearts. Ginny felt some spark enter her body. Another … and another … endless streams of sparks flowed from her brothers into her chest.

"Stay with us, Ginny. Don't leave us. We need you."

"Why are you here?" Ginny asked, still not really believing that her brothers had somehow followed her.

"Do you really have to ask?" Fred wondered.

"You are our baby sister." George tried a very weak smile.

"But I … I have been …"

"You have been wonderful."

"Don't you dare to think otherwise!"

"It wasn't your fault, Ginny."

"We should have protected you better."

"Merlin, will Charlie be angry with us if you don't come back." Fred sighed.

"Father would be heartbroken, Ginny." George added in a whisper.

"I … I was so alone." Ginny sobbed. "I had no friends and …"

Fred punched her arm. George glared at her.

"You have friends." Fred remarked.

"You only have to allow them to be it." George explained.

Gently Fred cupped her face: "Hermione was there to help you. And Daphne enabled us to follow you."

"Do you feel it?" George asked, pointing at the red and blue lines that connected their hearts and cores.

"Da … Daphne did this?"

"Yes, but I think you still have to want to go back to make it work."

"We can't force you, Ginny. But please: We want our favorite sister back."

"I'm your only sister," Ginny smiled weakly.

"See? So you will forever be our favorite sister."

Ginny remained silent for a while, listening to her own thoughts, feeling the hearts of her brothers. Then – very shyly – she asked: "Will you be there for me?"

"Forever," Fred stated determinedly.

"Until you can't stand our presence anymore," George added with a grin.

"You're the best." Ginny embraced her brothers and closed her eyes.

.

_**Hogwarts – Hospital Wing**_

.

Terrified Hermione had watched Daphne preparing and casting the Sanguis Familiae Spell. She knew enough about it to realize the inherent dangers. Daphne wasn't an accomplished healer. Certainly it would have been securer for Madam Pomfrey to cast it. But it was no surprise that the school nurse wasn't willing to take the risk – not to her own health, but because of the twins. It all happened so fast. Not a minute after the decision was made the twins were lying at their sister's side, each of them holding one of her ice cold hands. Daphne was sitting on Ginny's legs, her own legs and hands serving as bridges for the twins' energies.

_I should stop her. I should stop her. It's too risky._ Hermione mumbled, feeling unable to move.

Minutes had elapsed since Daphne cast the spell. Hermione wanted to do something, anything. Free Poppy. Walk nearer, talk a look at Ginny. But she could only stare. Someone entered the room. There … did she imagine things? Again … yes, Ginny's chest was moving. _Breathe, Ginny, breathe_.

"What's going on here?" The Headmaster's booming voice rolled through the room like thunder. With a weave of his wand he freed Madam Pomfrey. Before the nurse had a chance to move, Hermione hurled herself at Poppy and hugged her like crazy. "She's breathing, she's breathing." Poppy patted her back to calm the girl.

A sound caused her to loosen her grip. Hermione whirled around only to watch Daphne tumbling down. She wanted to haste at her side, but Dumbledore's grip stopped her. "Miss Granger …"

Without hesitation Hermione broke free and followed Poppy to the bed. She stopped two steps away despite her heart telling her to look after Daphne immediately. _Poppy needs space, Poppy needs space_.

"Miss Granger, please deposit Miss Greengrass on one of the empty beds." To Hermione's wonder she saw no anger in Poppy's eyes, only concern and a tiny amount of relief, like she didn't dare to already hope for this wonder to happen. Swiftly Hermione used a Mobilicorpus spell to transport Daphne.

"I demand an explanation."

"Later, Albus." Hermione was certain to hear a muttered _stupid git_. "I have work to do."

"What had happened?" Hermione wondered if the Headmaster didn't realize that Poppy needed to concentrate on the students or if he simply didn't care. "And who dared to stupefy you, Poppy? We can't allow attacks on our teachers."

Hermione flinched. She didn't regret what she had done, but certainly this would have dire consequences. An attack on a teacher wasn't something to be punishment with a few points and a detention. Before she had a chance to explain anything, Poppy growled.

"I was it myself."

"What?" Dumbledore and Hermione asked together. Luckily the Headmaster was loud enough to overhear Hermione's question. In wonder she listened to Poppy's explanation, not noticing that Harry with a piece of paper in his hand, Neville and – a few seconds later – a glaring Ron entered the Hospital together with Minerva McGonagall.

"I misjudged the situation and wanted to stop Miss Greengrass. Luckily in my haste I hit my own foot." The story was unbelievable, her tone of voice not much better. But apparently Poppy expected everyone to believe it nonetheless.

Hermione blinked. Dumbledore frowned. "I am to believe this silly …"

"Dare you declare me a liar?" Poppy asked with her best death glare.

"Ahem," Dumbledore coughed slightly: "Certainly not."

"Good to hear." Poppy growled before she addressed the newcomers. "We need an observer at every bed. Mister Potter to Miss Greengrass, Mister Weasley to Fred Weasley, Mister Longbottom to George Weasley." She pointed towards the twins and shortly Hermione wondered how Poppy was able to tell the twins apart even at a moment like this.

"Each one in his own bed. Cover with a blanket. Ensure that they stay in their bed and tell me the numbers." Hastily she cast some spells and numbers in different colors started to appear above the students, telling her the rates of their breathing and heartbeat.

"Miss Granger?" Hermione's head snapped up. "Use my fireplace to floo the Pinegrews. I need them her instantly. They know better than I about this spell."

Hermione hasted away, while Minerva walked to Ginny's bed, trying to help Poppy. "Call her parents, Minnie. I think we have her back, but still …"

Minerva nodded, too emotionally exhausted to say anything and departed again.

.

"Where is my baby?"

Hermione groaned. A few minutes ago Roxanne and Agatha Pinegrew had reached the Hospital Wing. Harry, Ron and Neville – for a moment forgetting their strife and obviously shaken to the core – were watching their patients and telling Poppy from time to time the rate of breath and heartbeat. Harry was very quiet at Daphne's side, had only shortly looked up when Roxanne hugged him.

Daphne's mother had only stopped shortly to cast some spells – causing those pictures about the patients' condition to appear above them – before she hurried at her daughter's side. "She'll recover, Harry."

Harry nodded weakly and pressed Daphne's hand. "She must."

Agatha, Poppy and a still beaten looking Snape were discussing what to do, while Hermione was watching Ginny. "We can't floo them to St. Mungo. It would disrupt their cores too much. They have to stay here until they're steadier again," Agatha explained.

"Where is my baby?"

Within seconds after the arrival of Arthur and Molly Weasley, the Weasley matriarch was already grating on everyone's nerve. She hurried towards Ginny's bed, ignoring – to Hermione's disgust – that the twins were hurt too.

"My baby," Molly whined. "What have they done to you?" She turned around, noticed that Daphne was unconscious too and that her family was present. "What had she done this time?" She pointed an accusing finger in Daphne's direction. "What has she done to my little …?"

"ENOUGH!"

Everyone had listened gob smacked to Molly's silly accusation. No, they stared in shocked silence at Neville. He had stomped on the ground in fury, causing a wave of accidental magic to roll through the room. For a moment he hesitated, looked in the direction of Harry and Daphne. His friend only nodded curtly and showed a small smile. 'Go on, Tiger' Harry mouthed.

"Shut up your mouth, Molly Weasley. Without Daphne your daughter would be dead, yes, dead. And it is your entire fault. She tried to kill herself because you couldn't stop to harass her with your stupid plan of marrying her off to Harry."

Molly showed her best Weasley-red face. Within moments Ron was at her side and only hesitated to attack Neville because Minerva stepped between them.

"Mister Longbottom, while I understand …" Dumbledore started with his most unctuous voice, only to be stopped by a surreal calm behaving Harry.

"No, Headmaster. That's exactly the problem: YOU don't understand." Harry offered Arthur the piece of paper, he had been holding the whole time. "I found this letter in Ginny's room, Mister Weasley."

Molly paled and tried to snap the letter away from Arthur's hand, only to receive a slap from Harry. Flabbergasted she stared at him, while Hermione – who tried to calm her trembling boyfriend – explained: "Fred told us about the letter. Perhaps you should ask Ron about the meeting with the Headmaster – and his plans to separate Harry and Daphne."

"That's got nothing to do with you, Granger." Ron growled.

"Be quiet, Ron." Arthur's voice wasn't very loud but allowed no opposition. Without speaking another word he read Molly's letter to their daughter. His shoulders slumped down; his eyes were full of tears now. He didn't intervene, when Harry addressed Molly:

"You nearly killed her. Because of you the twins and Daphne had to risk their magic to bring her back. I had never expected to feel like this, Mrs. Weasley, but from now on stay the hell away from me. Don't dare to ever touch me again. Don't dare to ever call me 'Harry' again."

"You can't speak like this with my mother," Ron hissed and stepped forward to punch Harry.

"Ron!" His father's voice stopped him. The tone was frightening. Never before had Arthur Weasley been like this. "Ron, go away. Return to your dorm. If I hear about any attack on Harry or his friends from your side, I'll extract your from Hogwarts." Ron hesitated for a moment, glaring at Harry, Neville and Hermione. "Keep quiet and go, Ron. Now!"

Ron obeyed and Molly tried to calm her husband but Arthur only raised his hand to stop her. "Molly … go away." Pale, with wide eyes Molly watched him, not understanding what he meant. "Pack your belongings and leave the Burrow. Pray that Ginny will recover. Then, and only then we'll speak about a possible return of you."

"You … you can't be serious." Molly pleaded but only met Arthur's steely eyes.

"You have disappointed me, Molly. I told you to leave Ginny alone. You had no right to interfere like this. Should Ginny and the twins not recover, I'll disown you. Leave! Don't return before I'll allow you. And don't dare to speak or write to Ginny anymore."

With defeat in her eyes Molly followed her son. There was no support in the face of anyone aside from the Headmaster. "Arthur, don't you think that your reaction is a bit hasty?"

Arthur only glared at him. Calm, his voice not betraying how ridiculous his request was, Harry demanded: "Please leave, Headmaster. You aren't welcome here anymore."

His beard only partially hiding how pale his face had become, the Headmaster struggled to appear calm: "Harry, I'm the Headmaster of Hogwarts. You can't …"

"But I can," Poppy interjected. "Go, Albus, let me do my work."

Even more it was Harry's reaction that stunned the Headmaster. "We'll see how long you'll remain Headmaster after this." Arthur shortly narrowed his eyes about this comment, but instead of reprimanding Harry, he curtly nodded. Dumbledore noticed it in stunned surprise. A hostile Pinegrew he could understand, but a united front of Minerva, Poppy and even Arthur he couldn't handle in the moment. Should Arthur go with this story to the boards of governors, he would be in serious trouble.

Dumbledore struggled with an answer, any kind of intelligent answer, when Agatha very loud and determined clapped her hands: "Enough of this silly conversation. Harry, Neville – back on your places. Hermione, you'll take the place at Fred's side. Arthur, you'll go to Ginny's bed. Roxanne, you'll oversee them for a while; Poppy, Severus and I have to discuss their further treatment. Minerva, you should inform your students about the events and calm them down."

Shortly she stopped and glared at Dumbledore. "You heard your school nurse: Leave." Without waiting for an answer she turned around and walked away.

Unable to understand how this all had happened Dumbledore walked away. _This can't be. This can't be._

.

_**Evening – Hospital Wing**_

.

"She'll recover, Arthur," Poppy patted Arthur's hand. "The first hours had been dangerous and her condition is still critical, but I'm certain now that she'll recover."

Arthur forced a smile and gulped. "I still can't believe it. That my little Ginny tried to … tried to …" He was unable to finish the sentence, the idea was simply too wrong to him.

"We should have seen it earlier," Hermione interjected with a low voice. "We should have noticed … but we didn't. Only Daphne somehow realized the danger. She … she put a monitoring spell on her."

Arthur and Poppy looked up. This was new to them.

"She used the same monitoring spell I cast on her before the second task. Without that she wouldn't have known …" Hermione stopped, struggled hard to suppress her sobs. "We would have been too late."

"But you weren't." Poppy said to calm her. "Ginny will live. And her brothers will recover."

Hermione glanced in Daphne's direction. Her family – including her little sister – was sitting around her bed. Astoria had begged her mother to allow her to help her older sister, like Daphne had done a few weeks ago. But Roxanne and Agatha had denied her wish. With Daphne's core in such turmoil, it was too risky.

"She'll recover too," Poppy remarked, following Hermione's eyes. "Her core is 'whirling' because of the amount of foreign magic that went through her. She'll need some weeks, but she'll recover."

Hermione nodded weakly. After some moment she whispered: "I'm sorry. Madam Poppy. I mean because of the binding spell I cast on you."

A first smile appeared on Arthur's face, but before he could comment the remark, Poppy responded: "I have no idea, what you are speaking about. I hit myself with that spell." She stared intensely into Hermione's eyes. "And if you did it, I would be thankful because of it. Thankful, that you stopped me from committing a grave error. Without the binding spell I would have stopped Daphne and sentenced Ginny to death. There's no need to apologize, Miss Granger."

.

_**Evening – Great Hall**_

.

Distracted by his own thoughts, Severus Snape was watching Minerva McGonagall. She had addressed the gathered students and teachers a few minutes ago and given a short explanation of the events of the afternoon. Had it been right to speak about the attempted suicide? It was something very private and the Headmaster had never been so open about something this difficult.

But Minerva wanted to make a statement. She wanted to enforce her point: "Look after your housemates. Don't leave them alone. You'll never know. You'll regret it forever if you overlook the signs."

With the Headmaster hidden away in his office to avoid Minerva's wrath, the four house masters had decided not to react to the events in any positive or negative way. The twins and Daphne won't receive house points for their incredible brave and stupid maneuver. And there won't be a punishment for the destruction of the Gryffindor entrance or the used binding spell. Shortly Severus smirked. _I always knew, Granger had it in her_.

"Any point – negative or positive – and any detention or bonus would only belittle this course of events," Minerva had decided.

Severus groaned when a new wave of memories troubled his mind. It wasn't the first wave and would certainly not be the last. Slowly, very slowly the memories – old and new – merged to a whole picture, a picture that started to raise his ire in a way he hadn't expected to feel again in this life. Until now his Occlumency had allowed him to stay calm. But soon he would have to act; else his temper would rip him apart.

"_Severus," the redhead's looked teary-eyed at him. "We had been friends for so long. Yes, you hurt me, very much even. But I can't hate you anymore. Not with my son in my arms. When I look into Harry's eyes I can't feel hate for another second. You accepted Remus apology. Now I'll accept yours."_

A part of the seal on his mind had been broken. He didn't remember all – now. But he knew that Lily didn't die with hate towards him in her heart. He had lived thirteen years not only with the guilt of her death on his conscience, but also in the false knowledge that he never had been able to apologize to her. Remus – he would have to speak with him too. Had someone messed with his memory too? Or did the Werewolf live in the false certainty that Severus never really had forgiven?

Severus felt betrayed. He felt raped. Someone had messed with his memories to cause a certain behavior. He knew exactly who the culprit was. Albus would pay for this. Severus threw a thoughtful look in Minerva's direction. He wanted to be part of her 'alliance' now. But first he had to show, that he wasn't the old Snape anymore. He had to prove, that he was worthy to be integrated. Looking down the length of the Great Hall, he realized quite the right way to set an example.

For a short moment Severus allowed himself to smile. It would have made Lily happy, he knew. She never liked that word. And he, despite his disgust about using it, had allowed his students for a far too long time to use it. _But not anymore_, he promised himself – he promised Lily.

Slowly he rose from his seat, ignored the stares of his co-teachers and went down the Great Hall. The students started to notice, that something was happening. The conversations stopped, their eyes followed the hated and despised teacher, who had been their enemy for so long.

Snape didn't feel like a hero. He was a despicable old man. Yes, he had regretted his betrayal of the prophecy to the Dark Lord, but only because it had caused Lily's death. Had it been someone else, he wouldn't have switched sides. But perhaps the years around Minerva had taught him a thing or two about morals, about conscience. And now he was about to betray his second master, Dumbledore. Again a master had betrayed him, this one perhaps in an even more perfidious way than the Dark Lord. _He would pay for this. Rot in hell, Albus_.

Severus Snape stopped below the hourglasses that showed the house points. Raising his wand he quickly cast a spell.

"From now on it is forbidden for every Slytherin and carries an automatic penalty of ten points to use inside the grounds of Hogwarts the term Mudblood."


	39. Chapter 39 Repercussions

_**A/N**_

_Apology for the delay – currently I have craftsmen working at my house. So I have none too much peace for writing._

_This chapter shows a number of shorter scenes as the week after the suicide attempt progresses._

**.**

**Repercussions**

.

_**Potter Manor – Tuesday Evening – 14th of March**_

.

"How's Daphne doing?"

Roxanne Greengrass née Pinegrew sighed deeply, but after some moments she was able to answer Sirius' question with a weak smile. She felt so tired after two days of keeping watch at her daughter's bed. Her long black hair she wore in a ponytail and the dress was far simpler than the ones she usually chose. "Better now. Poppy expects her to stay unconscious for a few more days, perhaps even a week. But at least her core is steady again, more or less. The residues of the Weasley magical energies mostly left her. Now we have to wait."

"It was incredible brave of her to cast that spell." Remus commented with a low voice. "And I'm really impressed that she executed it in such an awesome way. I don't know if I could do the same. And I'm not sure that I would risk it in her stead, especially for someone who isn't really close to her."

"I don't feel happy about it," Roxanne admitted. "Yes, it is good that she rescued Ginny Weasley. And certainly the girl didn't deserve to die." Roxanne sighed again. "But it was far too risky. With her limited experience she couldn't really estimate the risks and did it nonetheless. Sometimes I fear, Sirius, that your godson has too much of an influence on her, with all this Gryffindorishness." She smiled softly to take the sting out of her accusation.

"So now he's my godson again," Sirius grinned.

"Naturally, Roxanne agreed. "If he's doing better in school and controlling his temper, it is my influence. You're responsible for recklessness and acting without thinking." She winked at him while Sirius sent her a mock glare.

"In any case Daphne showed her Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw sides in casting that spell: Bravery, loyalty and knowledge. It's proof of the stupidity of the sorting into houses. By the way: I wondered about your visit, Roxanne," Remus interrupted, suddenly very serious again. "Is there any special reason? Not that I wouldn't enjoy your company."

"You've always been the perceptive one, Remus." Roxanne started to walk around in the room, kneading her hands. From time to time she threw a thoughtful, perhaps even apprehensive look in Sirius' direction.

"What have I done this time?" Sirius sighed.

"Nothing," Roxanne grinned for a second "yet."

"But you expect me too?" Roxanne curtly nodded.

"Snape," Remus suddenly remarked after a flash of intuition, causing both Roxanne and Sirius to flinch. "You invited Snape, didn't you?"

"Why would she do this?" Sirius asked agitatedly.

Roxanne gulped and breathed deeply: "Because we have something to discuss. To be exact: I want Severus and Remus to speak about something, but because it concerns you too, Sirius, I would like to have you here. But only as a listener, Sirius, and only if you promise me to behave." She stopped him with a gesture. "I mean it, Sirius. No hidden insults, no little stings, no groaning and sneering: You may stay if you think that you're able to behave. He promised the same to me. I know that you'll never be friends and I don't even expect you to be polite to each other. But could you, please, try to not make it even more difficult."

Sirius narrowed his eyes and Lupin could smell his friend's agitation. This was really difficult for Sirius. The enmity between him and Snape had always been on a whole other level than the problems between Snape and Remus. Even the smallest amount of politeness would be a real challenge. At last Sirius sighed deeply: "For you, Roxanne, only for you I'll try."

.

They had been sitting in the salon for a while now. The silence was only broken by the sounds of someone sipping his tea or fidgeting on his seat. Severus and Sirius tried not to look in the other's direction and concentrated on Roxanne.

"Good," she started, her sudden words causing everyone to wince. "Remus, I have a question for you. Eighteen months ago you started to teach at Hogwarts. At the time you went to Hogwarts, did you visit Severus to speak about your new job?"

"Yes." Remus glanced towards Severus, but the potions teacher looked down at his feet. _He's rattled_, Remus wondered. _And why is he staying quiet? It's not like him_. He had been very surprised to hear about Snape, as the House Master of Slytherin, joining Minerva's crusade against the Mudblood-insult. Now, with Severus completely altered behavior plain visible, it slowly made sense. According to Minerva his behavior caused a small riot and nearly an upheaval from the Slytherins. It was not difficult to imagine Snape glaring his students down, whipping them into obedience.

"Was his reaction like you expected?" Roxanne asked softly.

Now both Sirius and Severus looked up and seemed quite interested in Remus answer. "Yes and no," he answered after a while. "Yes, because the Headmaster had warned me about his … behavior. He told me about Severus favoritism of Slytherins, his hate on all things Gryffindor. That he had changed to the worse and unearthed his Marauder hate again. It could be expected, too, that he wasn't happy about another teacher getting the position he had wanted to get for several years."

To Remus' and Sirius' surprise Severus stayed silent and nodded simply in agreement. Severus knew that every single word of Remus had been correct. They didn't know all reasons but the result was: He favored his own house and took delight in harassing his Gryffindor students irrespective of their talent and behavior. And certainly he had been angry about another year of Dumbledore choosing another DADA teacher. Would they be surprised to hear, that at least a part of his behavior was caused by the Headmaster's orders? That he behaved like this because Albus wanted him to present himself as the 'evil ex-Deatheater-who-never-wholly-reformed'.

"And no," Remus continued "because I had hoped – despite Albus' warnings – that Severus had really accepted my apology after … after that night." Severus narrowed his eyes and breathed heavily but responded nothing for the moment. "I was really sorry about that night, Severus. I didn't want to frighten you like I did and certainly I didn't want to attack you. When you accepted my apology two days later …"

"What?" Severus interrupted. He had expected to hear this, but it was still a shock. "I mean: Could you please repeat that, Remus … Elaborate what happened?"

Confused Remus stared at him. Slowly he nodded.

.

"You really don't remember?"

Remus had spent the last hour recounting the days after the Shrieking Shack incident from his sight. Some things were new even for Sirius, as Remus had never told him about the conversation he had with Severus at the Hospital Wing. Back then Sirius had still been too angry, too confused about the whole matter. But to Remus' surprise Severus believed him.

"There are pictures in my mind," Severus started. "Since I worked with that magical picture my memories are confused. Sometimes it is like two photos lying on top of each other. I can't be certain what's true and what's not. But I remember now a conversation with Lily. She had Harry in her arms and spoke about your apology. That I accepted it."

Remus smiled softly. "It was the day after his first birthday, wasn't it?" Severus nodded. "I saw her the same evening and she was so happy. But James was there too, so she didn't tell me what happened. She forgave you, didn't she?"

Sirius breathed deeply but before he could utter a word, Roxanne's foot hit his shin. 'You promised,' she mouthed silently.

"Yes." For the first time a real and happy smile showed on Severus' face. "Yes, she forgave me."

.

Severus had left the house again. There hadn't been any statements of friendship, but at least the three men promised to try to work together for a while – in remembrance of Lily and to get back at Dumbledore.

"So Albus not only messed with Harry and cast that awful spell on Neville, but also altered Snivellus' … I mean Snape's memory?" Sirius acquitted himself well. _Even surprisingly well_, Roxanne mused. Apparently the time in Potter Manor, together with Remus, Tonks and sometimes Bill Weasley had been good to him. He not only looked healthier but also calmer than six months ago. "I only wonder why he didn't alter Remus' memory too. To trick him into a fight with Snape wasn't equally safe."

"It's because of his furry problem," Roxanne responded. "Anne told me, that to mind control a Werewolf is much more difficult than with other wizards, especially in the long run."

"She's right about that. My 'inner Moony' would struggle to break any control. And memory alteration is especially difficult with us, even more than an Imperio Spell. It is one of the few benefits of my condition."

"So he altered Snape's memories and tricked Remus into believing what Albus wanted him to believe." Sirius looked quite thoughtful for a moment. "I would like to have this flushing potion ritual cast on me, Roxanne."

Roxanne smiled and apparently had expected some reaction like that. "I'll prepare it."

.

"Sirius?"

"Mmm?" Sirius looked up from his book only to see Roxanne's very thoughtful expression.

"When we'll have sorted this out … when you're acquitted of the charges and able to live free again … do you want to …" Roxanne hesitated, unsure how to continue.

"No." Sirius simply answered the unspoken question.

"No?"

Sirius shook his head. "I certainly hope that I'll play a role in Harry's life, but I don't want to adopt him. He is my godson and that's enough for me. I'm not really parental material. I've done too many errors in the past and I'll do many more in the future, I'm sure. The incident with Remus and Snape wasn't a highlight of character. And after the deaths of James and Lily I went on a revenge hunt instead of securing Harry. Because I was so rash that night I allowed Wormtail to trick me into Azkaban. I should have stayed that night and explained about Peter being the culprit. And last year I wasn't really mature in my approach to catch Wormtail. With more reasoning and planning we would have been able to prove my innocence. No, Roxanne, I won't adopt him. Harry belongs to you now."

Roxanne sighed with relief and hugged him seriously. Sirius patted her back and noticed Remus nodding in his direction with a smile. He would love to be Harry's father, but somehow he was more 'big brother material' apparently. At least he could train him, show him the ways of a Marauder without any qualms of having to behave like an adult.

"That reminds me of a question of Harry some months ago. Why didn't you write someone after your escape? You could have asked for help."

Sirius frowned. "But I did." He sighed and shrugged: "I couldn't really expect them to believe me, but I wrote Remus and Minerva about it. They never answered. Later I wrote Albus and he promised to search for the rat. But I caught Peter faster … at least for a while. Perhaps I should have waited longer."

Remus shook his head: "I never received a letter from you. Perhaps I wouldn't have believed you in the first moment, but at least I would have tried to find the truth. I'm certain Minnie feels the same."

In silence they looked at each other. "We should ask Minerva if she ever received your letter."

"I suppose not," Remus commented.

"Albus." Roxanne simply stated and both men nodded.

.

_**Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office – 15**__**th**__** of March**_

.

_I can't believe it._

Albus shoved the letter away he had just received.

_It's all that Pinegrew-bitch's fault._

He wasn't really certain which Pinegrew was to blame for this – in case of doubt all three. For decades he had been the one and only leader of the light. And now this.

"What's that?" Moody's grumpy voice broke the silence. They had been speaking about Potter and how to convince him to continue the lessons with Moody after their 'break-up' two weeks ago.

"A letter from the board of Governors. They want to meet me in the week past Easter." Albus' face showed deep concern.

"I assume it's about the Weasley-girl."

"Yes," Albus nodded shakily. "Apparently Chief Governor Augusta Longbottom received an official complaint from Arthur Weasley because of his daughter's suicide attempt." Albus shook his head. "He blames me. Can you imagine … me?"

Moody could imagine it and secretly he shared the opinion. Albus meddling with Potter's love life could only lead to much pain and trouble. Perhaps he hadn't expected such drastic actions from the girl, but it wasn't totally unexpected. But he hadn't to tell Albus this now. "I suppose that the Pinegrews incited him to do so. He's really hurt and confused in the moment, amenable to influence."

"Yes, you're right as always, old friend." Albus sighed. Looking down to the letter, he didn't notice the small smirk on Moody's face.

"It's all breaking apart. The Ministry is pushing me. My teachers are opposing me at every angle. Even Minerva and Severus aren't trustworthy anymore."

Moody coughed. "You know that I never liked Snape. But I never expected to see him join Minerva's little crusade."

"I didn't either." Albus drummed his fingers on the table. "Even the Order … We're losing them, Alastor. Tonks left the Order and Remus too. Sirius didn't accept my invitation. And now it's only a question of time until Arthur leaves too. His sons Bill and Charlie will certainly follow him."

It was hard not to show his joy to hear about this, but Moody managed the task. He even sighed: "Too bad that we aren't able to use Potter Manor anymore. What about Black Manor? I heard that Sirius was thinking about offering the house to you."

"He did," Albus sighed again. "At least in a way he did. But then he changed a little detail: We are allowed to use the house, but he intends to bestow its ownership to Minerva. And you know how strained our relationship is in the moment."

Moody whistled. "That's unexpected." He looked thoughtfully at Albus. "And now? How serious is it?"

"It should be manageable. They want to speak about the attempted suicide but also about former incidents, especially about Quirrell, the Basilisk and 'dangers to the students'. With a Weasley child involved every time, Arthur has the right to charge a complaint. I'll get a written warning, I assume. But they won't sack me, not because of a Weasley.

"Yes, my friend, it will be a dirty fight. But I'll survive."

.

_**Hogwarts – Great hall – 17**__**th**__** of March – Friday Lunch Time**_

.

"I knew it," Hermione groaned. She had just opened the newspaper and a look at the leading article and especially the pictures was enough to spoil her appetite.

"_Greengrasses bemoan the fate of their eldest daughter!"_

Hermione read aloud to her quizzical looking friends and showed them the pictures. Cyrus and Astoria were standing at Daphne's hospital bed with Lucius and Draco Malfoy at their sides for moral support. Daphne looked deathly ill on the picture while Draco was the perfect friend with his arms around a trembling Astoria. "When that prat, that Daphne has the misfortune to have for a father, asked me to leave the hospital wing, I should have known what he intended to do."

"It's okay, 'Mione," Harry smiled softly, shortly looking up from the paper. "He is her father, he has the right. And at least Astoria is really disturbed because of the whole matter, concerned about her sister. You know – we had a few conversations at Daphne's bed and she's not so bad." Harry knew how much Roxanne had liked the idea of Astoria bonding with him a bit more, and he hoped the 'politeness' would endure after Daphne's recovery.

"But this article is only for show." The article wasn't very well written. It concentrated on the fact that there had been a suicide attempt – without naming Ginny Weasley – because of the '_irresponsible conduct of the Headmaster_'. In big words it told about Daphne's – '_a noble girl from a noble House and soon-to-be sister-in-law of Draco Malfoy_' – brave act to rescue her schoolmate. No word about the twins and way too much emphasis on the risks of her spell and the direness of her condition. Hermione knew that this part was correct at least. But certainly her family didn't need an article to rub this in.

Harry shrugged. "Could be! But – as much as I hate to admit it – Draco has been a great friend to Astoria in recent days. Perhaps he's not as bad as I feared – at least towards her." After a while he added with a grin: "No, I don't expect flowers from him in the near future. I only hate him a little less now."

Hermione huffed, but nodded after a moment of pondering. "Yes, he seems to really care – astonishing as it is. I hadn't expected him to see more in Astoria than a business deal. But still I don't like this. The Malfoys present themselves as the great friends in times of misery."

"I think you're not the only one disliking the story," Neville suddenly grinned, his eyes resting on someone else. Hermione and Harry turned around only to notice a very sour looking Headmaster, who was just studying the same article.

"I assume," Harry grinned "that our beloved Headmaster slowly realizes that not alone the Weasleys are on his heels."

"The Malfoys are doing this only for show and because they hate the Headmaster, certainly not to support the Weasleys."

"Agreed," Harry shrugged. "But it helps nonetheless. And everyone who is giving Dumbdork a hard time has some merit in my book – even if it is a Malfoy. But please don't tell Dobby."

.

_**Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – 18**__**th**__** of March – Saturday Afternoon**_

.

"You never told me about your Animagus form."

Neville looked up from the potions assignment he was working on. Like every day of this week they had spent some hours near Daphne's and the Weasleys' beds, working on their assignments, sometimes in complete silence, sometimes reading aloud.

This morning had been especially joyful, because Ginny slipped out of her unconsciousness for the first time. She was only partially awake and Poppy expected her to know nothing about it later, but it was a good sign. The twins' condition had improved too and they should awake in a few days too, everybody hoped.

Neville blinked. "Mmm, no, I didn't." He looked down again but felt the stare of his girlfriend, like Hermione tried to drill a hole into his head.

"Is it a secret?" Hermione grinned. She was still a bit miffed that she wouldn't be able to learn the Animagus spell herself, but on the other hand she had been proud to hear that Neville could learn this very difficult transformation. He had grown magically since Christmas and the Animagus Spell would only be another step on his way.

"I …" Neville hesitated.

"Yes?" Hermione felt a bit concerned now. Perhaps he wanted to stay silent about the exact form. Or he was embarrassed because of it. But why should he? Even a mouse had its benefits. Not that she expected such an animal to be his 'inner self'.

"I don't know."

"You don't know your form?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean: I know my form but I don't know if I want to learn the spell."

"What?" Hermione was only partially able to suppress a screech. "But why?"

"Because…" Neville looked at the tips of his feet again, slightly blushing. _He's so cute doing this,_ Hermione thought. _No, silly thought, no time for this. I want an answer now._ Neville sighed deeply. "You can't do this."

Now it was Hermione's turn to blink. "That's it?" Neville nodded. Flabbergasted Hermione stared at him. _He doesn't want to learn the spell because I can't. He's so sweet. I should kiss him. Or I could_ …

"Perhaps you're right."

Neville's head snapped up. This response he hadn't expected.

"I mean," Hermione continued slowly, pronouncing every word exactly "it would be really weird, wouldn't it. I'm still Hermione 'know-it-all' Granger and you're only Neville."

Neville glared at her. "That's not what I meant."

"Oh," Hermione mock wondered. "So perhaps you feared I would be jealous?"

"No," Neville growled.

"Perhaps," Hermione continued, ignoring his reaction "you could waive that Healer training next year too. I mean I'm not invited and …"

Hermione stopped to babble when Neville grabbed her arms and started to shake her. "That's not what I meant. You aren't jealous, you aren't a know-it-all but you're Hermione Granger, defined by heart, mind and … ahem … other assets." His blush deepened.

"Oh," Hermione smirked now. "And what other assets – pray tell – would that be?"

"Stop mocking me, you crazy bird," Neville growled. He sighed again. "I know how unhappy you've been about the Animagus test. And it would be a very time intensive training, hours I would have to spend without you."

"Stop right now. Who said that I would allow you to learn the spell without me? Yes, I can't CAST the spell. That doesn't mean I can't LEARN it. We'll do it together. I want you to learn the spell correctly and I can't assure that without learning it myself. Capice?"

"Capice," Neville grinned, now far more relaxed than a few minutes ago.

"You still didn't answer my question."

"No, I didn't." Neville showed a lopsided grin. "Cheeky girls have to wait and be surprised."

"Pah, I'm not cheeky. And you're not getting any kisses until you tell me."

Neville shrugged. He knew that Hermione liked their kisses and hugs perhaps even more than he. "You can't blackmail me. If I don't get a kiss right now, I won't tell you about the letter Professor Sprout got from Remus."

A single look at Neville's smug grin told Hermione, that she would like to know what he knew. With a deep sigh and mock self-conquest she leaned forward and gave him a peck on his lips.

"That doesn't count."

"Alright. You tell me and I give you a kiss according to the content of the news. I promise."

"Good," Neville smiled. _I knew it_. "Apparently Remus finished his work on cataloging the libraries of Potter, Black and Pinegrew Manor. As expected they have many books about all kind of spells, hexes, curses and dark magic. But they have only the more basic books about potions and effectively nothing about herbs – at least comparing to a well-rounded library like Hogwarts. So he proposed Professor Sprout to do some serious book shopping with a 5,000 Galleon purse and a smaller one for her own books as payment for the work. Apparently they send the same proposal to Professor Slughorn. He had been the potions teacher for Snape, Roxanne and Harry's parents. You see," he finished with a grin "you'll have even more to read in the future."

Hermione looked really happy now. She had been like that since she heard about the plans to condense the three house libraries. These plans to round the collection with new books about potions and herbs was marvelous "And perhaps I'll see more of you in the library then, with all those books about plants."

"And potions," Neville agreed. Don't forget that I planned to concentrate on herbs, potions and healing – now that I don't melt a cauldron every lesson. But … I only spend more time with you in the library if you're coming with me to the greenhouses more often – and not only for reading."

"You're driving a hard bargain, Mister Longbottom."

"Is that a yes, Miss Granger?"

"It is," Hermione smiled and leaned forward. She had a debt to pay.

.

_**Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – 19**__**th**__** of March – Sunday Afternoon**_

.

"Now this I call a real article," Harry tapped on the newspaper in his hand. "Journalism for real – unlike that smear campaigns of the Daily Prophet."

Neville sniggered, Hermione groaned. Since Harry learned about his share of the Quibbler, he had started to get a tad too exalted about every single edition. Yes, Hermione had started to read it too. And mostly she enjoyed it – even while she read every story with a grain of salt. And yes, she didn't begrudge Luna – or Colin with his pictures – the success. But this reaction was over the top.

"You do know that it's still not the Washington Post, Harry Potter?"

Harry only grinned. He knew how much Hermione adored the Washington Post since she read about the Watergate Affair and the role of that newspaper in it. "And you know, Hermione Granger, how much Luna would like to hear that you compare our Quibbler to the Washington Post. A year ago you would have assumed the 'Sun' to be a more serious newspaper."

Hermione blushed. She knew that Harry was right about that. Her opinion about Luna, her family and the Quibbler had changed very much in the past.

"I have no idea what you're speaking about," Neville interjected "but I would like to hear about this article."

"It's about Daphne," Harry responded. "Mostly there are interviews of Mother and me." In contrary to the Daily Prophet the Quibbler had unsurprisingly been able to interview them and get some splendid pictures. The article was very un-Quibbler-ish in its precision and showed clearly how much the Headmaster had interfered in Harry's love life. If the Malfoy-Greengrass article had been a nuisance to the Headmaster, this article should be a real pain in the ass – or so Harry hoped.

"And there's an apology from Viktor, too," Hermione added. She had liked to read that part especially. As agreed upon the Quibbler presented an interview with Viktor Krum and he declared quite open what kind of an ass he had been a few weeks ago and how much he regretted his behavior. No word about a love potion, but the clear statement: I won't hassle Daphne and Harry anymore.

"So you've already read it, Miss Granger?" Harry asked with a broad grin.

"Stop embarrassing my girlfriend, Harry." Neville protectively put an arm around Hermione's shoulders. With a smile she leaned against him. "And now, Harry, please read aloud."

.

_**Hogwarts – Hospital Wing – 19**__**th**__** of March – Sunday Early Evening**_

.

Neville had left two hours ago. He wanted to make a run around the lake with Harry. _His training is really helping his physique_, Hermione pondered with a wicked smile. _A few months more and I'll have to push the other girls away with a stick_. A year ago she would have felt threatened by the idea of other girls around and Neville comparing her to them. But while she still didn't fully believe his compliments about her beauty, she was at least ready to trust that Neville thought her to be the most beautiful girl around. And only his opinion really counted to her.

Madam Pomfrey had left the Hospital Wing for a while after Hermione's promise to take care of the four teenagers. Later Harry would replace her to allow Hermione some later dinner time. Hermione smiled shortly. It would be like every evening: Harry would sit at Daphne's side, holding her hand and begging Poppy to allow him to stay for the night. Sooner or later she would shoo him away only to 'overlook' the boy reentering the room an hour later.

They all hoped that the twins would awaken tomorrow. They were moving in their slumber from time to time and looked far healthier now than a week ago. Daphne on the other hand was still in her deepest sleep. But Hermione and the others could, through their mental bonding, 'feel' her mind and sometimes even received pictures from her. Especially Harry, who had the most intense bond with Daphne, had been troubled with those memories of the Sanguis Familiae Spell, with the emotions and memories of Ginny he received via Daphne's mind. He now understood far better how Ginny's last months had been and his opinion about Daphne's intent to help the girl had changed dramatically.

Leaving her wand behind as a book mark in the Charms book she had been reading, Hermione went at Daphne's side. "Please hurry to awake, Daphne," she whispered. "Harry needs you at his side. And your mother and your sister … please come back." Gently she pressed her hand. It was one thing to hear that 'all would be right again' and to see Daphne there in her bed, white as the bed linen.

When she heard someone open the door, Hermione whirled around. She didn't expect anyone and Poppy wouldn't return for another hour. A queasy feeling took hold of her, as she noticed Theodore Nott and Zacharias Smith enter the room. Nott looked around nervously, while Smith grinned maliciously in Hermione's direction.

"See, Theo, I told you the Mudblood would be here alone."

A low pling told Hermione that Zach just cost his house ten points, but it wasn't easing her mind. Slowly and trying to be unobtrusive in her intent, she walked towards her books. Suddenly the boys raised their arms, wands already ready.

"Expelliarmus." Nott's spell sent her wand flying away, far out of her reach.

"Messorius!" A wave of pain hit Hermione's left shoulder and upper arm. _A reaper spell_, Hermione thought absent-minded. _Where did he learn such a spell_? Even with her bracelet absorbing a part of the spell it bit deep. Her chest and arm started to bleed profusely. Groaning Hermione clenched the wound with her right hand. _Without the bracelet it would have cut my arm artery,_ she mused absent-mindedly. Nobody noticed that Daphne started to move slightly in her bed and to moan softly.

"Are you mad?" Nott yelled. "You can't use such a spell on her. You could have killed her."

"That was the intent." Smith's cold answer caused shudders on Hermione's back.

"N … no," Nott shook his head. "We only wanted to row her up a bit. I don't want to be part of this."

He started to turn away but Smith's grip stopped him. "You can't simply walk away, Nott. You're in with me – you have been since you told me about that poison broker."

_Poison broker_, Hermione trembled. _So it had been Smith who sent the poisoned vine_.

"It was an error," Nott whispered. "I never wanted someone to die."

"You're weak." Smith turned around. "You cost my father his hand, Mudblood." The absurd pling of another ten points nearly caused Hermione to giggle nervously. "You'll pay for that. But first we'll have a bit of fun with you. What do you think, Nott: Should we command her to punish the traitor-snake a bit first?"

Nott looked confused and tried to avoid the stares of Smith and Hermione.

Smith sneered. He pointed his wand at Hermione, who struggled to suppress her flinch. "Imperio!"

"Are you mad?" While Hermione struggled to fight the mental pressure, struggled to battle Smith's will with her Occlumency skills, the boys started to quarrel, more or less ignoring her. "An Unforgivable? You'll land us in Azkaban for using an Unforgivable on her."

"You're a real sissy, Nott. What do you think how I convinced Bones to administer the poison – promised her sweet kisses and to do her homework?" He sneered again.

Subconsciously Hermione, still fighting the spell, tapped into her bond with Daphne. _Your bond will help you even more in the future. It will allow you to fight Legilimency and similar spells_, Anne had said. A part of the spell's energy dripped into Daphne's mind, before Hermione was able to stop it. The result was instant and surprising. With a stunning yell the formerly unconscious girl awoke, sitting up and shocking everyone. With her pale face she easily could have been a ghost.

For a very long moment everyone only stared. Then the real battle erupted.

.

Harry and Neville were on their way back to their dorm, happily exhausted from their run. Harry was still far better in shape but Neville slowly closed the gap and wasn't as much of an impediment as two months ago. The castle's door already in sight, a yell permeated the air – no, not the air but their minds.

_DAPHNE!_

It was Hermione's voice, he heard, but that couldn't be. Ten yards, perhaps fifteen had been the utmost distance so far for their mind speech. But a single glance into Neville's terrified face told Harry, that he hadn't been the only one to hear it. Instantly he rushed towards the door and pushed it open …

Only to topple the person standing there, waiting for someone.

Professor Snape was already in a gloomy mood. He had noticed Harry and Neville on their way back and wanted to speak with the boy. No, he didn't want it, but it was necessary. He had just reached the door – intending to speak with him outside the castle to prevent eavesdropper – when the heavy wood door smashed into him and pushed him to the ground.

"Sorry, Professor."

"Potter! POTTER!" It was of no use. Potter simply rushed away, Neville fast behind. For a moment Snape hesitated. But this weird behavior certainly had a reason. And why were they rushing towards the Hospital Wing? Hastily he began to follow them.

.

Just in time Hermione whipped out her secondary wand from her ankle holster – silently cursing because she lost precious seconds when her skirt hampered her motion – to shield herself and Daphne from Smith's next Messorius Spell.

Moments later the fight was in full spate. Wounded and armed only with her lesser wand, Hermione was barely able to hold her ground against the two boys. While Nott still only used spells to disarm, stun or bind her, Smith had none qualms to go for the kill. Cutting Curses and Reaper Spells were his weapons of choice. With her duty to protect Daphne too, Hermione was unable to dodge and had no chance to use any offensive spell. Her only luck was the fact that the boys weren't a real team and apparently unable or unwilling to coordinate their attacks.

A Reducto circumvent Hermione's shield and hit the footboard of Daphne's bed. With a yell of surprise and pain the girl fell to the ground. Dodging Nott's next spell Hermione jumped across the broken mess of Daphne's bed and in front of her friend. Her shield spell was to slow this time and Smith's next Messorius Spell hit Hermione's right leg instead of Daphne's neck. Again the bracelet took the brunt of the attack, but the deep cut still sent Hermione down.

With a crash the door to the Hospital opened, showing the concerned faces of Harry and Neville. The concern instantly changed to hot fury as they noticed the scene in front of them. Daphne and Hermione on the ground, Daphne's bed a mess and the feedback of pain rolling through their minds.

Harry – assuming Nott to be the main culprit – nearly lazily deflected Nott's first attacks, while he walked towards him. His face was grim and promised pain. But this time it wasn't Viktor facing him. This time there wouldn't be 'playing around'. _Nott will be going down as fast as possible_, Harry decided. He only saw an obstacle in the boy, an obstacle on his way to Daphne.

At his side Neville dodged a cutting curse of Smith. He was nearly hit by the next one, when he noticed the deep gashes on Hermione's body. Hastily he turned back and started to fight in earnest. Within seconds Smith learned that Neville wasn't a near-squib anymore and that his shields were far superior to any attack he could send his way. With every unsuccessful attack of Smith, Neville gained another two steps as he fast closed the gap. Like Hermione he was more of a defensive fighter, but in this moment he saw red. Tapping into his emotions as Harry had taught him, Neville cast a crackling shield. Trusting it to absorb quite a number of those puny spells Smith was sending his way, he responded with a number of medium-powered Reducto spells.

Like a rabbit on the run Smith dodged the spells, took shelter behind beds and tried to break Neville's shield. At his side Nott went to the ground, no match for Harry's anger after seeing his girlfriend hurt – again. At last Smith's luck ran out like the covers around him. Neville's spell hit him into the chest and sent him sprawling through the air until a wall stopped him. With a thumb he crashed onto the ground and lost his consciousness. The darkness took away the pain.

.

With a deep frown and a hardly suppressed groan Harry watched Snape enter the Hospital only seconds after Neville had knocked out Zacharias Smith, his cloak billowing behind him. He felt proudness. Neville had gone far from the shy boy of the past. But now Snape would start his usual line of insults and putting every fault at Harry's feet. It was no surprise when Nott hurried towards his House Master and started to babble about evil Gryffindors attacking him. But Snape's reaction certainly was.

His powerful backhand caught Nott completely unprepared and sent him flying away. "I told you not to mess with _her_, Nott." Without waiting for an answer and under they wide-eyed stares of everyone he cast body bind spells on Nott and Smith, before he hurried to the girls.

Daphne was still shocked by her abrupt awakening, but seemed to be uninjured. Hermione's wounds on the other hand were heavily bleeding, the appearance even worse. "Send a Patronus to Poppy."

Without waiting for Harry's nod and successful casting of the spell, Snape began to treat Hermione's wounds. After superficially closing her wounds he carried her surprisingly gentle to one of the beds – one of the few Neville and Smith hadn't damaged in their fight – and fetched a Blood Replenishing Potion from his cloak. "Drink."

Hermione, totally shocked by his behavior, nodded weakly but still didn't drink. Snape sighed. "Miss Granger, drinking … you know … open mouth and all. This will help you. Poisoning is part of the schedule of next Friday." Snape making a joke was nearly too much, but at least Hermione followed his order now and drank the potion.

They had to wait for Poppy for a while – Harry and Neville sitting beside their girlfriends, Snape collecting the culprits' wands and glaring at Nott and Smith. Both boys winced, but stayed silent after their first try to 'explain' was answered by Snape's deepest growl.

"He tried to kill me." Hermione's voice suddenly broke the silence. She started to tremble violently, apparently now fully comprehending what just had happened to her, cold shock hitting her. "Smith I mean, not Nott." Snape turned towards her and watched her thoughtfully. After some moments he gestured Neville to slide onto the bed and embrace her. Flabbergasted Neville didn't obey instantly and stared at the weird behaving Potions Master.

"Now, Mister Longbottom." This tone he knew at least and happily Neville obeyed this time. He put his arms around Hermione, her head on his shoulder.

"He tried to kill me," Hermione repeated shakingly. "He used Reaper Spells against me."

Snape paled slightly. "You mean cutting curses?"

A tiny bit of the usual Hermione shone through when she answered with a hint of annoyance in her voice: "While I certainly don't use such spells, I know the difference. He used the Messorius."

Snape shortly glared at Smith, his look promising dire problems.

"And he tried to Imperio me."

Snape was stock-still for a moment, before he curtly nodded. "I see." His reaction shocked Harry. Snape really seemed to believe Hermione without further proof.

"He admitted that he used the spell before." Hermione whispered.

"On Miss Bones I assume." Snape asked with a controlled voice.

"Yes, sir."

"I understand."

Steps became audible in the corridor outside the Hospital. Snape jolted around and with a flick of his wand cast his own Patronus spell. In awe Harry watched a beautiful silvery doe appear in the room. "Not a single word, Potter." Snape growled, before he sent the Patronus away. "Mrs. Bones, your instant attendance is needed at the Hogwarts' Hospital Wing."

The door opened and a few teachers as well as the Headmaster and Poppy entered seconds before the doe left. Dumbledore appeared to be not too happy and his mood only worsened when he heard that Snape had sent his Patronus to inform the DMLE. "Severus, that was a bit rash. First we should try to …"

"First," Snape simply interrupted him "we should wait for the DMLE and allow Poppy to do her work." Much softer he explained to the Mediwitch: "I closed her wounds and gave her a Blood Replenishing Potion. I think it would be better to allow her some moments with Mister Longbottom to conquer her shock, before we continue her treatment. Perhaps you could have a closer look at Miss Greengrass first."

Poppy cocked her head and watched the Potion Master intensely. Everyone expected some comment about not explaining her job to her, but instead a slight smile appeared and after a short nod she walked at Daphne's side.

Shaking his head Headmaster Dumbledore looked around. The hospital was a real mess. With a frown he noticed that the culprits were still in body bind and he freed them. The moment he opened his mouth – certainly to start his usual speech about unnecessary harshness and 'second chances for everyone' – Snape renewed the binding spells.

"They aren't silly boys doing some pranks, Albus," Snape growled. "They're criminals and I'm sure that at least Mister Smith will see the inside of Azkaban in the near future." Several gasps could be heard, but Snape wasn't finished. "And Mister Nott would be wise to testimony against Mister Smith to avoid the same fate." He walked in front of the trembling boy. "Do you understand me, Mister Nott?" Theodore Nott stared wide-eyed at him and nodded weakly.

"Good," Snape stepped back. With a flick of his wand he removed the silver and green stripes on the boy's robe. "Mister Nott … you disobeyed my direct order. You attacked a housemate for the second time. You brought dishonor to the House of Slytherin. I evict you from the House of Slytherin."

"Severus, you can't do this." Dumbledore exclaimed.

"I can and I did," Snape growled back. "As the Master of House Slytherin I'm allowed to evict a student from my house if I assume him to be a danger for my other students. And in this moment I exert this right."

"Severus," Dumbledore tried to plead, but Snape only shook his head.

"It is unusual, Albus," Minerva stated quietly. "But it is his right to do so." These bastards had injured one of her cubs. If Severus was willing to punish them, he would get every support from her side.

"Severus," Albus tone was much harsher now. "You're position as the Master of House Slytherin …"

"Is securer than your own, Albus," Snape smirked. "Good look with convincing Lucius and the others to sack me."

Before the discussion had time to escalate, a new group arrived: Mrs. Amelia Bones and her Aurors. Instantly Albus tried to shoo her away and convince her, that he had everything under control. But to his disgust she simply ignored him: "Whose Patronus informed me?"

Snape stepped forward: "Mine." He curtly explained what had happened and especially mentioned Smith's use of the Imperio on her niece. "I'm quite sure that Mister Nott will be willing to testify and explain everything in exchange of a more lenient sentence. I assume that he'll leave Britain for a while after that. I heard Durmstrang is especially at winter time."

Amelia Bones threw a scrutinizing look on the boys. She accepted the offered wands of the culprits – "You'll find a newly used Imperio on the black oaken one" – and ordered her Aurors to take them away. Before she left, Amelia sent a last glare towards Albus: "I'll inform Augusta about this – especially about your newest attempt to cover up."

A beaten Headmaster left the room together with the teachers, shooed out by Madam Pomfrey. "Not you," she ordered Neville and Harry. "You'll stay here this night – with your girls."

.

_**A/N**_

_Riddle around the Poisoning solved at last._

_I originally planned to use Neville's Patronus in this chapter. But I have no idea what it could be. Do you have any ideas? I don't know if he ever used the spell in the books._


	40. Chapter 40 Time to Heal

_**A/N**_

_Thank you for your ideas regarding Neville's Patronus. I'll stick to one of the more traditional ones (which one you'll see later). It's not a very 'unique' one (the bee would have been like the one I had been thinking about for a while: the Bowtruckle), but according to an internet side I found about the meaning of animal symbols, it was simply too appropriate for him._

_Btw: I intend to write about another 6-7 chapters for this story, so it should be finished around end of July. After that I'll start the sequel about the events of the Summer Break and Year 5._

_I hadn't much time for beta-reading this chapter. So, if you find some errors/weird wordings, please PM me._

.

**Time to Heal**

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_Hospital Wing – 22__nd__ of March – Wednesday Afternoon_

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Three days had gone by since the attack on Hermione, three days since Daphne awoke in the middle of a fight. Since then Ginny and the twins had left their long sleep too, deadly exhausted but otherwise well and without any permanent damage to their cores. Daphne had been more than a bit relieved to hear that detail.

From time to time one of the teenagers looked up from their work and glanced towards the unusual group at the back of the room. Harry and Neville – who was a bit afraid about Hermione still not being fully healed and overtaxing herself – were helping Daphne with the subject matter she had missed. A few older Gryffindors and quite a number of girls from other houses had offered to do the same for the twins, but Fred and George happily declined – under the glares of Daphne and Hermione and the smiles of Harry and Neville. Daphne assumed that in Fred's case it was a healthy respect of Angelina's fury that convinced the boy not to allow some fan girls near his bed.

Luckily Daphne had been advanced enough in her preparative work, that now she would be able to fetch up within a few days. She was eager to leave her bed again and continue the training with her friends, despite the exhaustion that still had her in its grip. Especially the training plain – multicolored like it had to be – she had prepared with Hermione's help for Harry and the third task was waiting now to be put into action. Hermione had used the last week to read about former tournaments and had a rough idea what could be expected.

Every time it had been a kind of obstacle course, combat area or arena, bristling with riddles and dangerous animals of all kind. Instead of choosing one especially large and dangerous enemy – like the dragon in the first task – Harry had to expect a large number of dangerous plants and animals like Acromantula, Salamander or swarms of Doxies. They hoped that nothing like a Chimaera would be part of the test, but feared that the judges would put to good use the last remaining of Hagrid's blast-ended Skrewts. Only a handful had survived the term, but those were larger than a horse now and immune to most magic.

Dodging attacks, casting all kind of shields and protective spells and a wide area of attack and use spells to circumvent his enemies broad range of defenses was part of the training plan. Luna had been especially helpful with the riddle part. Somehow she had been able to convince the picture protecting the entrance to the Ravenclaw Tower to part with every riddle of the past ten years. Harry hoped that Luna wouldn't really act on her threat to ask him every single one of them over the next weeks.

"They won't get faster through your glaring, Neville," Daphne whispered with a smile. She was nearly as anxious as Neville, but better able to hide it.

Neville sighed and with much self-control turned around. "But she's still not fully healed."

"Hermione knows what she's doing," Daphne reassured him. She suppressed her smile. _His concern is really cute. Hermione is lucky to have him_. "She has to be careful with hasty moves and luggage, but overall she does fine. Poppy allowed her to cast the spell, remember." Hermione had to visit the Hospital Wing two times a day but otherwise Poppy had allowed her to attend the lessons.

Neville nodded hesitantly and Harry added: "And it had to be Hermione or Daphne, you know that. Ginny couldn't relax enough with one of us boys being the mediator." Neville nodded again, this time with more conviction. Harry was right: It had to be a girl to relax Ginny far enough, and Daphne was still not well enough to endure the exhaustion of casting and sustaining the Mind Speech Spell for such a long time.

After a last look all three tried to concentrate on their work and allow the group around Hermione some privacy – as far as this could be possible with the twins and their father watching the scene Argus-eyed.

.

"_My chest hurts."_

A flash of pain crossed the minds of Augusta, Amelia and Ginny. After a short _"sorry"_, Hermione tried to concentrate again on the pictures that Ginny was sending. She had tried to suppress the thought, but more than one hour of concentrating on the spell had been a bit too much for her – only three days after the attack. And while the Pain Reliever Potion had been enough to number her left arm, she still sensed the growing cramp in her right leg and the deep cut in her chest that hurt with every single breathe. Perhaps she should have waited a few more days, but she wanted to do this now.

For a short moment pictures of her ideas how to punish Zacharias Smith for his cowardly attacks flooded the other three minds. Hermione blushed deeply, but three _"it's okay, really"_ – messages calmed her down. Augusta, after hearing about the attack, had been quite clear in her statement, that she wouldn't allow the boy to go unpunished. Amelia Bones on the other hand had been conflicted. She was horrified to hear about the attack and the used spells, but now her niece was exonerated from all accusations about the poisoning at least. That Hermione was able to see this good side too only endeared her even more to Amelia.

Arthur was waiting with the twins to take Ginny away from Hogwarts – at least for a while. She would stay with the twins at the Burrows and recover from the ordeal of the last weeks. All three Weasleys were thoroughly exhausted and needed some time to recover. The twins planned to return after the spring break. About Ginny – they had to wait and see.

Hermione hoped that she would be the old Ginny again afterwards. Since her awakening Ginny had clammed up, hardly able to answer Poppy's questions about her condition. When Harry took a seat on her bed, the girl had even tried to run. Only Harry's strong grip and even stronger embrace prevented it. For minutes she had been trembling in his arms, tears running down his shoulder, while she mumbled apologies. Under the soft smiles of his friends Harry had been there, silent, waiting for her to calm down. His behavior had earned him one of Daphne's most passionate kisses afterwards.

It had been Neville's idea for Ginny to share her memories with Hermione, allowing the older witch to show what happened to Arthur and the twins in an intensity that words could never contain. Pictures and emotions of the last months, of every conversation with the Headmaster and her mother, of every letter she got. Ginny had been frazzled out afterwards, but apparently it had been helpful to get rid of her big secret. She even allowed Hermione to show the memories to Daphne, Harry and Neville – "to understand".

Now she was showing Hermione the memories for a second time – together with pictures about the events of her first year, the events around the Chamber of Secrets. It had to be done because this time it was kind of official. Hermione was the mediator of the Rapport spell, but the recipients this time were Amelia Bones for the DMLA and Augusta Longbottom for the Boards of Governors. Hermione hoped that these memories would influence both ladies to be especially eager to help the girl. And it would allow Ginny to avoid an interrogation in front of all governors.

All four were sitting in a close circle and holding hands. Not that Hermione needed such a method anymore after weeks of training, but she hadn't to show everyone how far her knowledge in memory speech already reached. Harry had proven to be the strongest 'emitter' by far while Daphne was the best receiver. Together they attained the farthest range. Hermione's talent manifested itself in moments like this: Sharing information. Neville at last was the best at using the link to calm his friends and integrate others like Luna.

"_Do you want to stop, Ginny?"_ Augusta asked in a surprisingly warm and soft manner. Despite her still existing temper she had shown this new side of her character now and then in the last months, a change that surprised Neville perhaps even more than anyone else. Perhaps the knowledge that Neville would be a worthy heir of House Longbottom and the long letters she shared with Hermione had convinced the old lady that softness at the right moment wasn't a weakness.

"_No, I can do this,"_ Ginny responded. She breathed deeply a few times and continued with the pictures about the Chamber and her abduction two years ago. It was only to finish the story, as Augusta had been more interested in the behavior of the Headmaster and the teachers before that moment. Augusta suppressed a sigh. _How could he ignore this danger for so long? How could Albus allow these events to happen? And why had he been unable – or unwilling – to acquire Mandrake Potion faster? Hermione had been petrified for weeks, weeks that certainly had been dreadful – awake but unable to move. Feeble excuses - again_.

Amelia nodded curtly, a hard smile on her lips, reminding Augusta that she was unable to hide her own mind while the link existed. Hastily she put her thoughts away and concentrated on Ginny again.

.

"Professor Lupin agreed to help with your home schooling." Arthur's announcement didn't arouse undivided enthusiasm among his children but certainly from Daphne and Hermione. He hadn't mentioned his wife, but apparently she still lived with her family. Despite Ginny's awakening Arthur wasn't willing to forgive so easily – especially after the memories he had been shown. The twins had been especially angry about the part Ron had played in the schemes and promised revenge.

"I'll write you, Ginny." Harry announced, reaping a soft and thankful smile.

"And I'll speak with Colin about sending you his notes about the coming lessons," Hermione added, causing more sighs than smiles. She glared at Neville, who hastily tried to cover his reaction with an innocent smile.

Suddenly everyone was silent when the realization dawned, that it was really time for Ginny to depart. What could they say? What could they do to reassure the girl? One after another the four teenagers hugged the redhead without words. Only Harry whispered a single one:

"Friends."

.

"It's time, isn't it?"

The four teenagers looked up and watched Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom with puzzled looks. The Weasleys had departed an hour ago and now it was nearly Dinner time. Both ladies had been talking with them for a while and especially used the time to learn some last details from Daphne.

"Time for what?"

Like an answer for Harry's question the door was opened and a maliciously smiling Susan Bones entered. "Professor McGonagall sent me, Auntie. They're waiting for you and Governor Longbottom."

For a second Amelia glared at her niece for using that nickname before she slowly nodded.

"Good," Augusta clapped her hands, her face showing the same malicious smile that was on Susan's lips. "Let's face the music." Ignoring the still puzzled looks from the teenagers, she passed Susan and left the Hospital, directing her steps towards the Great Hall. Hastily Harry put Daphne into the wheel chair she had been using for the last two days and followed the ladies.

"Do you know what your grandma is talking about?" Hermione whispered.

Neville shrugged: "No idea. But according to her smile I wouldn't expect anything nice."

.

_**Hogwarts – Great Hall – dinner time**_

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Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was a happy Headmaster at this moment. The Weasley-girl had survived and woke up a few days ago as did the Weasley-twins and the Greengrass-bitch. Everyone was happy again and would be more lenient towards him now. At the court he would engineer the trial against Nott and Smith 'with the necessary sharpness' and show everyone that he still cared, that he still was the Dumbledore everyone had adored for decades.

And now he was sitting here, especially invited by Minerva to attend the Dinner. The Great Hall was well occupied. More or less every teacher and student was present, as it seemed. Like a shepherd watching his flock, so felt Dumbledore as he looked down on his little sheep – easy to influence and needing his helping hand to find their way in this bad world out there.

Yes, he was a lucky Headmaster.

.

BOOM!

Neville felt like hiding from the stares behind Harry and Daphne, but Hermione had clasped hands with him and walked especially erect behind Augusta and Amelia. _Grandma has too much of an influence on her_, Neville groaned inwardly. Augusta's little thunder spell certainly got her the attention of everyone and with a grim smile she stepped towards the teachers' table.

"Headmaster!"

The greeting and the slight nod could have been a polite gesture – had Albus not noticed the sneer on Augusta's face. His mood changing within seconds, he tried to be in lead of the situation again, rising from his seat: "Lady Longbottom, I'm happy to see you at Hogwarts again. What's the joyful reason of your surprising visit?" Out of the corner of his eyes Albus noticed the wicked smiles of Minerva, Filius and Severus. His blood ran cold_. What are they planning?_

Augusta turned her back towards the headmaster and cast a Sonorus on herself.

"Dear students. As most of you certainly know, I'm Augusta Longbottom, Chief Governor of the Board of Directors of Hogwarts. The lady at my side is Mrs. Amelia Bones, head of the DMLE."

Everyone was silent now. The news about the attack on Hermione had gone around and every student was eager to learn what would happen to the attackers. Augusta gestured Hermione to step at her side, what she did with Neville following close behind. Augusta put a hand on the girl's shoulder and smiled reassuringly.

"You certainly heard about the attack on Miss Granger three days ago. I can't go too much into details about the whole issue, but I wanted to clarify a few things at least and inform you, what will happen now."

"Lady Longbottom," Albus tried to interrupt her, "do you think this is the right place …"

"SILENCE!"

Albus paled his eyes wide open. None of the students could really believe what was happening there. Nobody had ever behaved like towards the headmaster. Hermione flinched, but struggled to show a determined expression, while Neville felt an unknown flow of satisfaction running through his body as he noticed the Headmaster's pale face. Harry glared at the Headmaster. _It's time_, he pondered_, it's really time_. And he really liked the idea to inform everyone about what was happening around them. It had been policy of the school for far too long to cover up everything.

"As I said," Augusta continued her voice soft again. "Three days ago there had been an attempt to murder Miss Granger."

For a moment Augusta had to stop as everyone was whispering now. An attack they had known, but attempted murder? Some of the Slytherins – Draco, sitting aside a very pale Astoria, surprisingly not belonging to them – threw some insults towards Hermione. Sentences like "they should have done better" reached her ears until Professor Snape of all people stopped them: "Fifty points from Slytherin for your disgusting behavior. The next insult earns the culprit detention with Professor McGonagall."

Augusta nodded slightly while Albus stared at Severus like he had grown a second head. "The culprits have been caught. One of them – Mister Theodore Nott – already confessed. He was only a tag-along. While not without fault, he was never really planning to do serious harm to anyone and seriously regrets his course of action."

His snorted "cowardly bastard" earned Neville a glare from his Grandma, before she continued.

"Nonetheless he'll leave Hogwarts and continue his education at another place. The Board of Governors wishes him well for his future."

Harry's "good riddance" was not as silent as he hoped it to be. Amelia coughed slightly and hid her grin behind her hand, while Daphne mock scolded her boyfriend with a smile in her eyes.

"The other culprit is far more serious. Mister Zacharias Smith not only used some dark magic to attack Miss Granger, intending to kill her, but he used the same spells against Miss Greengrass and my grandson. To top it all off Mister Smith used an Unforgivable against Miss Granger."

Again she had to stop and allow the students some minutes to share their opinions. Even the Slytherins were glaring now. Attack the mudblood was one thing, but Daphne was still one of them. And the use of an Unforgivable was deadly serious.

"It should be mentioned, that in the fight Mister Smith admitted to have imperiused Miss Bones a few months ago, forcing her to buy poison and use it on the wine she gave Miss Granger as a present. Mister Smith – who has been prematurely declared to be of age yesterday – will face a trial before the Wizengamot for two attempted murders, two uses of Unforgivables and several cases of grievous bodily harm."

This time nobody whispered. It was eerie silent with everyone trying to understand the repercussions of this. Declared to be of age Zacharias Smith would be sentenced like an adult, certainly meaning a long time in Azkaban. They wouldn't see him again until their own children left Hogwarts. That one of his victims had been the niece of Amelia Bones would certainly not be helpful for him.

"From the standpoint of the Board of Governors the case Zacharias Smith is at an end. From now on it will be in the DMLE's responsibility to handle the matter. But this leaves us with the question: How can we try to prevent something similar in the future? There have been some … incidents … for the last years to happen, incidents that should never have been allowed to happen. Hogwarts hasn't been the secure place we all hoped it to be. We want to change this. We want to make Hogwarts a place of learning again, a place worthy to say 'I'm a Hogwartsian.' You should feel secure again, not endangered by enemies, other students or creatures that have no place at a school.

"The Board of Governors has a meeting in the week past Easter. We will discuss a number of proposals how to change Hogwarts – the living conditions and the curriculum. We want to modernize the curriculum, allow you to learn something that will really help you to live in these changing times, adapt to what is happening around us. It won't be something we can do within a few weeks or even months. We'll need years, but you'll see the first changes after the summer break, I assure you."

"I would like to see these proposals, Lady Longbottom," Albus was much more polite now, feeling that the situation was certainly not to his favor. He was still inwardly fuming about Augusta's audacity to announce all this at this place, but his fury had to wait.

"You will … after we decided about your part in the future of Hogwarts."

Augusta and Albus were glaring at each other now, while everyone around was staring at them open mouthed. Did she really say this? Did she really suggest that …?

"Headmaster Albus Dumbledore," Augusta continued with a voice of steel. "As you already know, the Board of Governors expects your participation in the coming meeting. We will discuss your behavior of the last years, especially regarding the welfare of our students and the security of Hogwarts. You'll have time to explain in detail your former decisions. But to our sorrow you already proved, that you're willing to cover up dangerous incidents. Your willingness to downplay the attack on my ward, Miss Granger, is inexcusable. We can't allow this to happen again. Until our meeting we have to be adamant that you let rest your position as Headmaster of Hogwarts. Your …" Augusta glared around to stop the chattering. At least Albus was unable to respond. Very pale he was sitting in his chair now, apparently not really able to understand what was happening around him. "Your position will be filled with Professor McGonagall until we decide about your successor."

It was certainly no coincidence that Augusta didn't mention the possibility of Albus' return after the meeting. For a moment Minerva feared that the – now former – Headmaster would have an apoplexy. He looked near fainting and was mumbling something incoherently in a low voice. Augusta showed no mercy. _I promised not to forget about that spell you cast, Albus_, she mused.

"I expect you to leave the school tomorrow morning and allow Hogwarts a chance to recover from those hurtful incidents. We'll see each other at the meeting, Albus." _You'll never return to Hogwarts_, Augusta promised.

With a last nod towards Minerva, Augusta turned around and left, Amelia and the four teenagers fast behind.

"That wasn't very nice, Augusta," Amelia scolded her friend slightly: "To sack him in front of the whole school."

Augusta only shrugged, her face still determined and her smile a bit evil. "He'll survive."

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_**Hogwarts – Hospital wing – 7**__**th**__** of April – Thursday Evening**_

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It was a quiet, contemplative evening for once, a welcome change to the week before. Tomorrow afternoon they would leave Hogwarts for the Spring Break, two weeks of family, relaxation and without any assignments. Professor McGonagall had somehow convinced every teacher – even Severus Snape – to refrain from handing out any assignments for this time. "The students need the time to take their minds of the things that happened here. They'll be serious again soon enough."

It was nearly unthinkable that Minerva of all teachers would utter such an opinion, but Madam Sprout told it to Neville a few days ago with a soft smile. The Mistress of House Hufflepuff shared the opinion and had been very happy to notice the change in her old friend. It didn't make her weaker, in her opinion, but only more human.

Daphne's trunk was standing beside her bed, packed by Tracey the evening before. Hermione had left for some last reading in the library, while Harry went for the dungeons to plan his visit of 'Privet Drive 4'. Professor Snape had offered to accompany him and Daphne hoped that all would go well.

This left only Neville for company this evening and after finishing their newest homework, they were reading some letters they received today. As promised Harry had started to write Ginny – with much more endurance than feared by Hermione who know Harry's listlessness regarding letters. But the others wrote her too and after a while Ginny started to answer. In the beginning it had been only short two-sentence-letters, but slowly they grew and especially Neville had been able to draw her bit out of her shell.

"She's a bit annoyed because the twins never leave her alone," Neville laughed softly. Shortly he glanced towards Roxanne. Daphne's mother had been working the past weeks in the Hospital Wing, doing a kind of internship in preparation of the healer education she wanted to continue after her daughters' coming of age. It had been a bit weird for Daphne and Harry to know, that every kiss could be interrupted by Roxanne's arrival, but Lady Greengrass had tried hard to allow them some privacy.

"It sounds like she's really feeling better. She'll stay at home for the rest of the term. Apparently Professor McGonagall allowed her to take her exam in the first week of the summer break. Remus is still preparing her and is content with her progress."

"That's good," Daphne sighed. She had feared that Ginny would have to repeat the year and lose the few friends of her year she still had. But Ginny was quite intelligent and not nearly as lazy as Ron. With Remus' help she would certainly at least handle the exams. "Did she write something about her mo … her family?"

"They'll spend Easter together. Even Charlie, Bill and Percy will be there. Only Ron preferred to visit his mother. She's living with Aunt Muriel at the moment." Neville sniggered. "From what Ginny told about this Aunt, this is punishment enough for Molly."

"It's deserved," deadpanned Daphne. She was still more than angry about Molly, although not nearly as furious as about Albus Dumbledore. Daphne had stopped to call him Headmaster in her thoughts and really hoped, that he would be unable to find a way to squirm free of the accusations this time.

"I hope they allow her some time alone," Neville continued gently. "If the twins' continual attention is already annoying her, the whole bunch will certainly not be easier to handle."

"They were horrified, Neville," Daphne responded. For a moment she went very still, as memories of the moment flooded her mind when she had cast the spell to rescue Ginny. "We were of one mind at that moment, Neville, and I could feel their emotions. They feared to lose their sister and felt guilty about not seeing it sooner, felt guilty that they hadn't done more to protect her from Dumbdork and her mother. They won't survive to lose her now again, Neville. But perhaps we could write them a letter, explain that Ginny needs peace and normalcy now."

"That would be good," Neville nodded: "And your letter – who sent it?"

"It's from Fred," Daphne laughed. "Here … read yourself."

.

_Dear Daphne,_

_We – I the more handsome twin and his ugly companion – wanted to thank you for your wishes. We're seventeen now – of age – can you imagine? In the beginning we had been a bit disappointed to be away from Hogwarts. Lee and the girls had planned some superfragilistic birthday party to celebrate April the First – the most important day of pranking history. Instead we celebrated in private, planning a family party next weekend and to make good with a party after the Spring Break._

_But Daphne: George explained to me a week ago that there is no reason for disappointment. It is the best birthday ever for us, because we have the best birthday present there could be … our little angel, even if she is more of a devil most of the time now. Yesterday she sent a bat-bogey-hex my way only because I disturbed her one or two times in her room. Can you imagine?_

_But enough of the touchy-feely talk._

_We really liked your birthday presents. Thanks a lot! The booklet with the pranking potions was incredible, nearly as incredible as the thought that you all four participated in the work – even Miss 'I-never-break-a-rule' Granger. I promise that we'll take the recipes to good use in the future. _

_Warm greeting to you all from the Genius and his mediocre twin_

.

"He really doesn't know Hermione very well," Neville grinned.

"Perhaps he doesn't know the revamped version of her," Daphne responded. The birthday present had been quite some work, but wholly worth it. A booklet containing thirty pranks, all around a special potion or powder. Harry had helped with ideas, Neville with his knowledge about herbs. But most of the work had been to invent the spells and put them into potions. Hermione had done most of the potions work while Daphne invented the spells. It had been more than proof enough that the days of Hermione only repeating knowledge from books was far behind her.

"You know how I wondered in the beginning about her Patronus form. An otter is the symbol of playfulness and originality. Both weren't Hermione's strong points a year ago. But perhaps her Patronus knew that she only needed someone to give her a little push – someone like you. Don't deny it, Neville," Daphne gently scolded him as he started to fidget on his seat. "Hermione has certainly been good to you, but you have helped her quite the same. I like the improved Hermione even more than the former one and in no time she'll be a real otter."

.

In a few minutes Neville had to leave the Hospital. Roxanne had shortly shown up and reminded the teenagers to call it quits and now they were collecting their books and papers. Neville stopped his doing when Daphne suddenly addressed him.

"You have been a real friend, Neville. You've been the only one who never doubted my wish to help Ginny, who never tried to persuade me to care about her. Even Harry and Hermione had their moments, but never you. Thank you."

She hugged him shortly and smiled, until she noticed his expression: "Something the matter, Neville?"

Neville sighed and looked down at his feet. "I haven't been completely honest, Daphne. You know: I wanted you to spend your time with healing. I hoped, if you saw how much you can do for others, you would decide to follow the path of a healer."

"And why do you want this?"

"Daphne … I didn't want to put pressure on you, but you're not simply a healer. According to your Aunt you could be much more and I hoped …"

For a while he was very silent. Daphne gestured her mother to give them some minutes and waited impatiently. "Daphne, some months ago I accidentally listened to a conversation between your mother and your aunt about your talents."

.

_"We didn't tell them about Daphne's other talent."_

_Roxanne and Anne had left the room, leaving Harry and Daphne with the newly arrived Grangers – parents and daughter – to have a calm breakfast before they left to collect the new wands._

_"No, we didn't" Roxanne agreed. "It is better this way. I don't want to force her even more in that direction."_

_"I understand, but … it is really, really unique. Even in the Congregation we only have less than a handful witches with her talent and according to Spiritualist Nowles she could be exceptional in a few years, a decade at most. We can't allow her to …"_

_Anne felt herself seized by the collar and forced against the wall. "It is her decision, hers alone. Do you get my meaning? Yes, I would like … no, that's not strong enough … I would love to see her choosing that path, but I'm not Daphne, I'm only her mother. To be a Spiritualist is a difficult path, you know that exactly. To heal a broken mind is never without influence on the healer. We won't force her in any way."_

_Roxanne accentuated every word of her last sentence and Anne nodded slowly. "Okay, I understand. But shouldn't we at least tell her …"_

_"… Tell her that she could heal Neville's parents in a few years?" Both missed the gasp coming from the niche where a shadow was hiding since a few minutes. "With that amount of pressure … yes, this information would be a kind of emotional pressure … do you really assume that there could be any other decision for her? You've seen how close she is with her friends. You know how much his parents mean to Neville. Telling her about this would leave her with only a single choice: Become a Spiritualist too, a mind healer."_

_Anne sighed deeply. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'll stay silent about that."_

.

"A Spiritualist?" Daphne whispered. "She really assumes I could be a Spiritualist?"

"Yes, darling." Her mother's soft voice prompted Daphne to whirl around.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Roxanne sighed and sat down on an empty bed. "The Spiritualist, the Mind Healer, is a very difficult and dangerous path. To merge your mind with those having a mental illness can endanger your own mental health. You're far too compassionate and willing to help others. This is good for a healer but will tempt you to use your abilities before you're really able to control them and protect yourself from the repercussions to your own mind. I wanted to give you another decade, to grow and steady yourself before you go down that path."

"I understand you, mother, but … if I really could do this … Neville's parents. If I really could help them … now … not in ten years or twenty …"

"I know, darling. I knew you would react like this. Please promise me to be careful. And allow Spiritualist Nowles to teach you and guide you for a while. I don't want to lose you."

"Okay, Mum, I promise." Mother and daughter shared a smile, before Daphne turned towards Neville, who still watched uneasily. "Neville, I'm not angry about you."

"Okay", he relaxed a bit. "But I'm sorry that …"

"Don't be," Daphne interrupted him. "I understand." She smiled reassuringly and pressed his hand. "And next time you'll visit your parents, I'll come with you."

"Okay," Neville's smile broadened. "Okay."

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Court Room 5 – 12**__**th**__** of April – Tuesday Midmorning**_

.

Harry and Remus were sitting on the first balcony, overlooking the court room packed with the assembled judges, attorneys and a bunch of journalists. A few teachers were present too, but only Madam Sprout was expected to give testimony. Smith's attorney apparently hoped to hear something positive from her about the culprit's character. _Don't think so_, Harry sniggered. The Hufflepuff Lady had been especially furious about the Imperio use on Zach's housemate Susan Bones.

Hermione, Neville and Daphne had to wait in an adjoining room to testimony against Zacharias Smith. Roxanne was with them for moral support while Augusta had her place beside the prosecutor. With Hermione being her ward and the main victim, it had been possible to invoke the right to be joint plaintiff in the case, allowing her to call her own witnesses and ask her own questions. On a bench behind her Harry saw Minerva sitting aside an overwhelmed Emma Granger. Hermione's mother had been horrified to hear about the attack and wanted to be here today to support her girl.

Harry had expected to be one of the witnesses too, but apparently his written statement had been enough. Harry suspected, that Dumbledore wanted to avoid that everyone concentrated on his person, on the boy-who-lived, instead of him, the great leader of light.

Five judges would be responsible for this case, and while most of them weren't of any interest to Harry, he felt uneasy about the leading judge. Albus Dumbledore himself had taken the role, causing the case to be of much more interest to the publicity than it should be. Yes, it was about attempted murder and the use of an Unforgivable. But Smith wasn't a renowned Death Eater. He was a simple student attacking another student. Harry feared that Dumbledore tried to use the case to put himself in a better light again.

"They're coming," Neville whispered. And really, with Albus strutting at the front, the five judges entered the room and took their places. On Albus' sign two Aurors led the culprit to his seat, a wooden chair allowing the culprit to be magically shackled. Smith was a pitiable sight. Small and brittle he walked between the two hulking Aurors. More than once he stumbled and one of the Aurors had to prevent a fall. The shackles appeared to be too heavy for him to wear. But there was no compassion on Albus' face.

_He wants to set an example_, Harry mused. _He wants to be the firm-handed man, protecting the poor masses from all dangers. What a hypocrite._

After a short statement of the Auror leading the detachment, that had accompanied Amelia Bones to Hogwarts, it was Poppy's turn to explain the condition of everybody at the scene. Naturally she spend the most time describing Hermione's injuries and while the Imperio left no sign on her, the Reaper spells were easy enough to identify. He had seen her, but still Harry shuddered as he heard about the seriousness of her wounds again.

_She would have died without the bracelet,_ Harry pondered. _This sick bastard would have killed her. I hope he'll get the kiss_. Perhaps it wasn't too bad that Dumbdork was leading the judges.

A second Auror explained the results of his examination of the Hospital wing and the wands of everyone involved. "Everyone else used normal spells, mostly to stun, shield or disarm. Mister Longbottom used a number of Reducto spells, which caused some damage to the furnishing of the Hospital. Only on Mister Smith's wand I found the unique signature of an Imperio and at least four Messorius spells."

The statements of Daphne and Hermione were pleasant short and clear. Hermione in a strong voice and Daphne still exhausted – which had nothing to do with the attack but apparently pleased Dumbdork nonetheless – both described the fight in simple words. They tried to skip any emotions they felt, but at least Daphne was unable to do this completely. Not only Harry felt pity to hear about the confusion to awake in the middle of a fight, unarmed and helpless, simply hoping to survive. Or the gratitude Daphne expressed to watch Neville and Harry enter the room – the cavalry for the rescue.

Dumbdork tried to sway her away from mentioning the boys too much, but on Daphne's pleading look, Augusta raised her voice: "I want to hear this as certainly everybody else. The public has a right to know," she finished with a short bow to the attending journalists. Harry grinned maliciously as he noticed Dumbdork's expression.

"You have to understand my feelings at that moment. I trust Hermione with my life, but she was already severely injured. Seconds before she took another hit that had been meant for me; that would have killed me certainly. No wand, unable to help her and still confused from awakening moments ago, I feared the worst. And then Harry and Neville entered the room, wands blazing, angry without bounds. While Harry was able to subdue Mister Nott fast enough and without danger, I feared for Neville's life. Mister Smith used those dark spells against him too, these Reaper spells. Luckily Neville proved to be strong and fast enough to avoid any injury until he knocked Mister Smith out. It was a sight to behold. We both owe the boys our lives."

After a short break and some words from Madam Sprout about Smith's character – "a proud and irascible young man, certainly not someone I would have expected to join my house" – it was time for Theodore Nott to save his neck. Very detailed he spoke about the events – the poisoning and the attack in the Hospital. Harry felt a bit ill to hear Nott's calm voice explaining how Smith admitted to have imperiused Susan Bones to buy the poison and put it into the wine for Hermione.

"I had no idea how serious he was, Your Honor. He never told me, that he wanted to kill the pour girl. I knew that he hated her, but this … I never expected him to do this. I would have stopped him."

It was not very believable – at least regarding his own part. But it was enough to remove any doubts about Smith's guilt. For a moment Harry wondered why nobody mentioned the reason of Smith's hate. But then he understood: Smith's father was an important man, a politician. He rather sacrifice his own son than to tell everybody else that Smith wanted to take revenge for a wound his father got as he run around with some Death Eaters. His part in the whole affair could get Smith's father his very own criminal trial in no time.

_This is not over_, Harry mused. _Hermione has to be careful in the future_.

It was not long before the trial came to an end. The statement of Zacharias Smith was a painful affair. He really tried to explain, that he had no idea about the seriousness of the used spells and that he never intended to kill her. Because he had to skip any reference to the cause of his hate and there was no way to convince the judges that he had a 'difficult childhood', there was no chance to convince them to show any mercy. With his head hanging Smith expected the decision.

_He already knew_, Harry realized. _He knew that he has no chance to avoid the harshest punishment. He gambled and he lost_.

Another short break was announced, but nobody left the hall. Nobody at least aside from Smith's father, who barely had looked in his son's direction, and his mother, who seemed barely able to hold herself together and nearly caused a scene when her husband dragged her away.

_What a disgusting father._

Only a few minutes later the judges returned and Great Master Dumbdork raised his voice.

"A heinous crime has been committed, a crime that causes every parent to have nightmares. Our sympathy is with every parent today and especially with the Grangers." Shortly he nodded towards Emma Granger. Her reaction was certainly not as hoped. Emma – who had been informed about the former Headmaster's attempt to cover up the attack – grimaced in his direction and turned away. She had no interest in helping Dumbdork in any way.

Albus coughed slightly and continued. "Nobody is able to prevent every fight at a school as large as Hogwarts." Again he was interrupted, this time by a number of coughs and deep sighs, the loudest and mostly heeded one from Harry. "But it is our duty to show every student that we don't allow such behavior and punish such a crime with a firm hand."

_Yes, if that's what lets you sleep at night_, Harry groaned. _Dumbdork, father of lightness and master apologizer "it was only a prank" is speaking about firm hands. Funny_.

The reactions from the people around – especially Remus wicked smile – showed Harry that he perhaps not only thought these last words.

"In view of the youth of the culprit the tribunal can't condemn Mister Smith with a clear conscience to the one and only possible sentence: The Veil."

That was to be expected. Despite Smith being in court as an adult, he still was only fifteen years old and nobody wanted to condemn him to death. And perhaps there was still a bit of respect towards his father. It was easier to condemn him to a life sentence and forget him.

"Because of this the tribunal decided to condemn you, Mister Zacharias Smith, to a life sentence in the prison of Azkaban. After 25 years there will be a rehearing and you'll get a chance to convince us that you've changed to the better."

_Life sentence, really_, Harry was still surprised. He hadn't expected the sentence to be this harsh. Despite any hate he felt towards the boy, this was not appropriate. There was no chance that Smith would change, not with the Dementors around. Even Sirius had been influenced through their vicinity and he had been an adult with a very strong will from the beginning.

"Do you have any last words, Mister Smith?"

The boy was barely able to shake his head.

"Then …"

"I want to say something." Harry smiled, as he noticed Hermione's small frame, standing proud besides Augusta and her mother, daring to oppose Dumbdork's show of firm handedness.

"Miss Granger, I fear …"

"I was the main victim," Hermione simply interrupted him again. "And I want to speak now."

Dumbdork swayed his head but one of the other judges – an elderly man that had more than once grimaced because of Albus' wordings – interjected: "I think we can allow this. I assume, Miss Granger, you want to say something regarding the sentence."

"Yes, Your Honor." Hermione nodded slightly. "Certainly the deed of Mister Smith has been a heinous one and nobody wishes more to see him punished than I do. But still I can't sit here and stay silent, watching a boy being used as a pawn. Zacharias Smith is a young man who did something very wrong and he should be sentenced for this. But only for this and not as a show of strength, not as a testimony of the supposed care we experience at Hogwarts. As Lady Longbottom announced last week, there had been made mistakes at Hogwarts, mistakes the Board of Governors wants to correct in the future. But to condemn this young man to such a sentence is certainly the wrong way.

"Your Honor, even with the possibility of an amnesty after 25 years, this sentence will destroy Mister Smith's life. Is this appropriate? Is he a criminal so hideous that there is no other way? I look at Zacharias and behind all his hate and weird opinions I still see hope for him. Perhaps I only want to see it but still I can't help myself. I beg you, Your Honor, not to destroy this young man's life. Show him mercy. In my opinion a sentence of prison on the upper levels of Azkaban, with Aurors and not Dementors as guardians, would be more appropriate. And please, allow his rehearing to be earlier, perhaps after ten years and not twenty five. With the possibility to enter life again as a mid-twen he'll have the chance to show us, that he still can be a worthy addition to our society. Wouldn't that be better than to lock him away and forget about the key? I beg you, Your Honor, don't destroy his life."

.

_**A/N**_

_Next chapter it will be the time to pay Aunt Petunia a visit and after that we'll see if Albus show of strength did him any good._


	41. Chapter 41 Between Love and Hate

_**A/N**_

_About __**Death Penalty**__ for Zach Smith: Please don't forget that Hermione originates from a land, where for the last thirty years nobody had been sentenced to death (Death Penalty abolished in 1998 only, but last death sentence was in 1964). So, in contrary to the Purebloods, she isn't used to the idea. Add to this her Christian-humanistic upbringing (especially strong in my story and one reason of her acceptance by the Congregation and not the eye-for-an-eye type) and it should be reasonable that Hermione is 'pro punishment' (after all he gets at least 10 years in a feared prison) but 'against death' and 'against Dementors'. _

_I seriously hope, that everyone agrees with me that Dementors as prison guardians is an extremely inhuman measure from the start. And I don't see something like a "sneak" curse on Marietta on par with a life term under the eyes of Dementors. _

_And by the way: Don't forget her second, very Slytherin reason. Harry will speak about it in this chapter._

.

**Between Love and Hate**

.

_**Pinegrew Manor – 14**__**th**__** of April – Friday Midmorning**_

.

Harry had to blink several times to really believe it. Yes, he had known that Professor Snape would be here today, but it was weird nonetheless. Roxanne kept them company, more out of politeness – and perhaps the wish to avoid bloodshed – than the need to really participate in the conversation. Even weirder than his presence was Snape's attire. Instead of his famous billowing black cloak he wore black jeans, a dark green shirt and winkle-pickers.

_Completely usable to kick asses_, Harry mused with a broad smile. _I had no idea he owned such things_. Snape noticed Harry's look with a frown, but decided to ignore it. Instead he continued to speak about the trial two days ago.

"Miss Granger had been surprisingly persuasive with her little speech. I was surprised that the judges decided in her favor and against … Albus." He hesitated for a moment. It was still weird for him at the moment; with Albus not being the acting Headmaster even 'Professor' would be the wrong title. How should he address him now? Severus closed his eyes for some seconds. So much had changed after a decade of steadiness.

"As soon as I saw Hermione standing there," Harry responded with an unhappy smile "I knew that she would convince them. She really felt what she said and I suppose that is helping even against the most traditionalist judges. I think that everyone was forced to feel her honesty and honorable intent, unlike at it is certainly to experience such things in the Wizengamot."

"I assume you weren't happy about the lessened penalty."

"I was not," Harry agreed with a deep sigh. "I've heard Dumbledore speaking about second chances often enough, but in Smith's case … No, I'd preferred a more permanent solution. I'm okay with the change to a 'no Dementor' prison. Since last year I have an idea what an influence these beasts have on your mind and nobody deserves this. But he should be sentenced to a life penalty." Harry leaned back against his seat, his smile softening. "But on the other hand: We're speaking about Hermione. She simply had to do that. It's in her nature and her big heart is one of the reasons we love her so much. I would have preferred another sentence, but I'm not angry."

Severus only grimaced but didn't respond directly to Harry's comment about 'we love Hermione'. "And then there was her second reason to ask for mercy," he responded with a smirk: "A very Slytherin reason."

"I have no idea what you're speaking about." Harry' bland face wasn't very convincing and soon it changed into a grin. "You mean the anti-Dumbledork-reason."

Snape looked unhappy, but only for a short moment. "Yes. Apparently he wanted to be 'the strong man with the firm hand', trying to sacrifice the young man to solidify his reputation. You know as well as me that it isn't normal for Albus to demand such a harsh punishment. So he had other reasons to hand out a life sentence. With Miss Granger opposing this, she not only crossed his plans but also showed everyone how cruel Albus can behave to further his reputation. As I said: Very Slytherin." Severus knew a thing or two about Albus being cruel and Hermione had gained more than a few points in his opinion through her crossing the old goat's plans.

"Calling her Slytherin … And I thought you wanted to stop insulting Hermione." Harry showed a lopsided grin.

Snape didn't respond to that but instead he offered a warning: "Miss Granger should still be careful in the future. Mister Smith and Mister Nott may be stored away, but still their fathers are out there. They had been an important reason for their sons' behavior and they could still be out for her blood."

"I know," Harry nodded, his playfulness fast pushed aside by his concern about his best friend. "We'll protect her," he promised, his voice leaving no doubt how serious he was about this. "I saw Smith's father at the trial. I had the impression that he more or less disowned his son."

"This may be, but still it's a question of pride and family honor. And he certainly shares his sons' disgusting opinion about Miss Granger's 'worthiness'. Like father like son."

Harry stayed silent for a while, thinking about another son he had watched in the last months. "Like Draco and Lucius Malfoy?"

"The situation is similar. But while Mister Smith has a weak mother – unable to stand against her husband – Draco has the luck to be the son of Narcissa. So he has two persons influencing him. It remains to be seen who'll have the greater influence in the long run."

"Professor, Mister Malfoy is your friend, isn't he? I heard something about Draco being your godson."

"He is my friend and yes, Draco is my godson. I promised to protect him from every danger." He stared intensely into Harry's eyes: "Danger of all kinds. And Cissy has been my friend for a long time, too. Both share many opinions but not all. So perhaps I'll have to decide someday whom to support. But not today."

"Has Mister Malfoy been the reason …" Harry stopped. Despite the unusual friendly conversation there were still questions he shouldn't ask. To his surprise Snape didn't object.

"You wonder if Lucius had been the reason for me to become a Death Eater in the war."

Harry nodded weakly, Roxanne tensed. She had wondered that too but never dared to ask. It was a very personal issue to Severus, she knew. And it had been, she was certain, one of the decisions he really regretted.

"He had been the one to introduce me to the Dark Lord, but not the reason for me to join. Perhaps we'll speak about that at another time."

"Okay," Harry nodded. After a moment he asked with a tense voice: "Do you have an idea why Smith senior attacked Hermione at the Quidditch Finals?"

"How should I know such a thing?"

"I wondered …" Harry stopped again. To accuse Snape of having been one of the Death Eaters at the finals was certainly not a way to gain brownie points. And by the way he didn't really believe it. Or at least he didn't hope so.

"Did you think, I have been there too? That I have been one of the dunderheads running around and causing trouble, hurting those Muggles."

Harry pondered for a while; then he shook his head. "It crossed my mind, but I don't really believe so."

"And why not, pray tell?" _He's even smirking now_, Harry mused. _He's far too relaxed, very weird_.

Harry smiled mischievously: "I would prefer not to explain my reasons."

Snape frowned, but only a bit. "Oh! And why not? Do you fear I'll dish out detentions?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "You don't need real reasons for detentions." Snape sniggered lightly, Roxanne rolled her eyes. "But," Harry continued "I would have to say something nice about you."

"Harry," Roxanne scolded him, but Snape sniggered again: "Alright, that's a reason I understand. We can't have that." More seriously he continued. "But to answer your questions: No, I haven't been one of them. Yes, a few of my friends had been there – no surprise there. And regarding Smith senior: I'm not certain. I heard something about his wish to do more than cause a bit of mayhem, a wish my friends didn't share."

_So Malfoy had no part in that attack_, Harry pondered. _Good too know_.

"Perhaps he simply wanted to kill 'a Muggle' and spoke about it with his son. And now at least we know that Smith junior hated her because of her intellect for a long time. So in a way – I assume – Smith junior has three attempted murders on his plate, not two."

"I can't understand how someone can hate her because of her intellect." Harry sighed.

"Why not? Even among your housemates there are many that despise her because of it. Okay, her diligence is certainly another reason. But from the start there had been insults about her book-worminess. Hadn't that been the reason for Miss Granger being attacked by ta troll in the bathroom in the first year?"

"Yes," Harry grimaced. "She took the blame, but it had been Ron's rude behavior, that send her crying into the bathroom and nearly got her killed. He certainly belonged to those housemates that eagerly used her help at schoolwork but insulted her nonetheless." After a moment he added with no small amount of self-loathing: "And far too often I looked away in those moments. I should have been a better friend."

"See," Snape agreed. "And among Purebloods she is a permanent evidence, that something is wrong about the whole 'Purebloods are better wizards' reasoning. Kill her and the evidence will be gone."

Thereupon Harry stayed silent for some minutes. Snape had been right. To someone like Smith or Malfoy Hermione certainly was a sore point in their life. There was no way to deny that she was the best witch at Hogwarts, at least regarding the theory. And how fast she learned knew spells was a miracle to watch every time.

"By the way: I really appreciate that you … you don't harass her like you did before. And Neville too."

Snape shook his head: "I had my reasons to change how I handled her. She isn't as annoying as before. She changed – and Mister Longbottom too. Miss Granger is more relaxed, not as eager to show off in the lessons. And she's more willing to use her brain instead of simply reading and copycatting. I heard about some of her potion inventions for the twins. Some of them showed real ingenuity. Not that you'll ever tell her this," he glared.

"I wouldn't dare," Harry smiled softly.

"And Mister Longbottom was a real surprise since New Year. I have to admit, that I never understood Professor Sprout's adoration, but he made great strides. For the security of my lab, I hope that his relation with Miss Granger endures for a long time."

"We all hope that – for different reasons."

Snape got serious again: "But don't think that this changes my opinion about you. I may help you today, but I still believe you to be an obnoxious rule-breaker who had far too much leeway in the past."

Harry didn't object to Snape's assessment, but instead asked: "Why do you help me? I know that you had an agreement with Daphne but Nott is away now. You have no reason to follow up with your part."

"I do and you just stated the reason: I had an agreement. I gave Miss Greengrass my word and I don't break my word lightly." It was a simple statement but Snape's voice left no doubt about its seriousness and the importance of his word to him.

Roxanne smiled. She had stayed silent for most of the time, only watching and enjoying that Harry and Severus were able now to hold a constructive conversation. They still weren't friends, but they hadn't to proof their antipathy through open or hidden insults anymore.

"Did you … did you pledge your word to protect me?"

"What makes you think that?" Snape tensed and a deep frown showed on his face.

"From the beginning, even in the first year where we had not the best start, you protected me: That Quidditch game for example, where you saved me from Quirrel's curse. Or last year: Following us into the Shrieking Shack was a great risk. You had no reason to do that. Hermione never believed that you would endanger me willingly. And in retrospect I'm willing to share her opinion."

Snape stayed silent long enough that Harry started to believe that he wouldn't answer. He was surprised to get an answer nonetheless, thoughtfully whispered. "After your mother's death I promised her to watch over you. I already betrayed her, as I followed Albus' order not to look into your Aunt's home. I won't betray her again." He frowned shortly: "Irrespective of my opinion about your character and behavior."

"Was she the reason …" Harry whispered. _You left the Death Eaters_.

"Yes, she was." Snape only said those three words, his tone stating, that he wouldn't explain more at the moment. But it was enough for Harry now.

.

"Your Aunt is expecting us. I phoned her a few days ago. She wasn't pleased. Your Uncle and Cousin won't be there."

"How did you convince her?"

"Money," Snape shrugged. "Your godmother gave me 20,000 pounds – nearly 1,000 Galleons – to offer her for her participation. It's more than enough for an afternoon of disgust, even for her."

_She sold her memories of my mother_, Harry raged. He had hated his Aunt for a long time, but this kind of behavior only deepened the cut between him and his last blood relative. He had really hoped that there would be a last small spark of sisterly love but apparently not. He sighed and tried to push those emotions away. _One last afternoon with her_, he mused. _After that I'll never see her again_.

.

_**Granger Home – 14**__**th**__** of April – Friday Midday**_

.

"It's really a nice home, Mrs. Granger." Augusta Longbottom had been guest of the Grangers for some hours now. They had ushered the teenagers away to allow the adults some time alone to get to know each other. Augusta had to admit that not only the home of the Grangers – a medium sized two-story house with a plot of garden around – had impressed her. Dan Granger was a nice and a bit overprotective father while Emma Granger seemed to be king of the castle. Hermione's appearance was a blend of her parents, but her mind and temper showed much more of her mother. Augusta liked that and appreciated the possibility to get a new friend in Emma Granger.

"Thank you very much. It's certainly nothing in comparison to your manor, but it's cozy and we like it. And it's certainly large enough for the two of us with Hermione away most of the year."

"Yes, I hate those times too. Neville is only at home for two months a year and with my son and daughter-in-law …" Augusta stopped, her eyes softly gleaming. Emma knew about Frank and Alicia through her daughter, but understood that the Longbottom Matriarch had difficulty to speak about it. She only patted her hand and offered an understanding smile.

"But enough of that," Augusta changed the issue. I arranged with Gringotts to have some security experts here next week. They'll erect some wards against the usual things, mostly fire, apparition and foreign port keys. If you're okay with that they'll allow admittance for a small number of persons, for the beginning Agatha and Roxanne Greengrass, Remus Lupin and I. Later we can integrate Hermione and Neville. But they'll only start with apparating in two years."

"That would be nice. I'll agree to that."

"Good," Augusta smiled and fetched two bracelets from her bag. "These are for you and your husband. They're port keys to my home. I don't see an imminent danger for you, but after these two attacks on Hermione I would feel safer to know that you'll have them. You have to touch them and say 'Certum Castellum' – safe castle – to activate them. Anybody touching you at the moment will be transported together with you."

Emma nodded and without words started to attach her bracelet to her arm.

Augusta pointed towards the underside of the second bracelet. Some runes were engraved there. "Agatha was adamant about adding those runes. They'll protect you from a number of charms and memory alterations. In addition they'll grow hot if someone uses such a spell on you. They aren't foolproof, but better than nothing."

"_We can't allow someone like Albus to interfere with Hermione's parents. After what he did to Harry and Daphne around Valentine's Day, I'm not willing to risk that he'll try to influence them magically. It would be the simplest way to drive a wedge between the girl and you, Augusta." Agatha had been furious thinking about Albus and his 'charms' and Augusta had to admit that the idea wasn't too farfetched._

"Hermione …"

"Her bracelet will be changed next week to integrate these protections. The same will be done to the bracelets of Harry, Daphne and Neville. At the moment all four are protected through a spell, but it has its drawbacks. These bracelets will be better in the long run."

"Thank you, Augusta. You're a gem!"

.

_**Privet Drive 4 – 14**__**th**__** of April – Friday Midday**_

.

"Come in, hurry."

It was not an uncommon sight for Harry to watch Aunt Petunia's nervous expression, as she ushered Severus and him into her house. Anxious she looked around and forced a smile as she nodded towards Mrs. Pringles from Privet Drive 5. The elderly lady was sitting at her window like every day, staring onto the street, hoping for something interesting to happen. The return of the scoundrel certainly counted. Harry smirked when he shortly pondered if Mrs. Pringles assumed Severus to be one of the teachers from St. Brutus. It wasn't hard to imagine Severus as a teacher at a home for problem children. His face alone would hold everyone in check.

Harry looked around. Nothing had changed since his departure nine months ago. There was not a single sign of his presence in this house, not a single hint of him living here for more than a decade. He avoided to look at the cupboard or to think about his room upstairs. _Had they removed the bolt in between_? He wondered.

Severus Snape put the picture of Harry's parents on the table in the living room. It was still wrapped into thick layers of cloth. While Severus started to unwrap it, Harry coughed slightly. "Thank you very much, Aunt Petunia, for doing this. It means much to me."

Petunia only glared at him, from time to time throwing anxious and wary glances towards Snape.

_She isn't interested in helping me_, Harry felt sorry. _There is nothing left of family love_. He sighed and snatched the envelope from his pocket. Without words he offered it to Petunia. Equally wordless she accepted it and looked into the envelope. Her expression didn't change, didn't show any sign of acceptance. After some more minutes of silence, she suddenly stated with a voice that contained a large amount of anger but to Harry's surprise also a bit of fear and loss.

"I'll accept this and I'll help you, but only on one condition. This" She waved with the envelope "isn't important. I never received a single pound for raising you and I would have done for the rest of your time until you'll come of age. But my family is important to me – my husband and my son. I'll help you, Harry, if you promise to leave afterwards and never return."

Harry had the same wish to never see her again but somehow he felt sad nonetheless. Petunia had been his mother's sister, the last remaining blood relative. For a long time he had struggled to gain a modicum of love from her, had tried to behave his best only to see her smile a single time. Never did he succeed in his struggle. He nodded, but before he could agree, his Aunt continued. Her voice was again a mix of anger and sadness. "I raised you, because you're family, Harry. And you never leave behind your family, not like your mother did. Perhaps you'll understand this principle someday."

Harry's head snapped up: "What …?"

Petunia glared at him. Since Snape's call she had been thinking, thinking about her traitorous sister and her dangerous son. It had hurt to remember, to remember the happy days but also the days of despair and sorrow.

"Your mother left us. She left me; she left our parents, because we weren't good enough for her and her new friends. It broke Mum's heart to lose her little darling. We had been the Evans-sisters, Harry, inseparable sisters and best friends – at least until this slimy git appeared and told her about magic. After that she changed. She receded from us, turned away from her former life. Did you know that I wanted to accompany her? Yes, I did, silly as I was."

She pointed towards Snape: "He laughed at me. Your Headmaster wrote me, that I wasn't good enough for Hogwarts. So be it. I've finished with you." Petunia sighed and struggled to calm down. Snape's eyes rested silently on her. He would have liked to comment her weird statements, but this wasn't about him. Perhaps it was good for Harry to hear about Petunia's reasons and opinions.

Harry didn't know what to say. _She was jealous_, he noted. It was surprising but understandable. _She lost her sister to magic and grew hateful because of that. How would I have reacted, losing my brother to a new world like that, a world I can't participate in?_

"But that wasn't enough – oh no. Every summer she came back with stories about Hogwarts. She was still Mum's favorite. I could never compare to her. Mum hoped that Lily would still be her little girl after school. But it shouldn't be. She found those new friends, friends that neither understood our life nor wanted to share it with us. They had only scorn and derision about our simple Muggle ways. They were too good to live as we did. Instead they left us, she left Mum broken. And when Mum was really down, she was killed. Wizards killed her, wizards like him. Had you been one of them, Severus, have you?"

Severus, who had been awful silent so far, only shook his head. He hated Petunia, hated how she had treated Lily. But hadn't he treated Lily equally bad? And Petunia had reasons for her behavior, at least from her point of view. Naturally Albus had denied her to attend Hogwarts because she had no magical talent, but to a ten year old girl it must have been like she wasn't good enough. "I heard about the attack, but I wasn't one of them," he whispered at last.

Petunia stared at him. She hadn't liked him from the start, had hated how he alienated Lily from her. But he seemed to be honest about this. She nodded curtly. "But others came and killed them, killed my parents because of your mother, Harry. Don't you dare to glare at me," Petunia snarled as she noticed his reaction. Her mood didn't better with her head hurting like this. Why was the ground swaying?

Fuming she continued: "Your mother had to play hero out there, had to annoy those dark wizards. Had she remained at home with us, those wizards would never have attacked my parents. They killed them to hurt Lily. It had been Lily's fault that they died, like it had been your fault that they killed your mother. She did nothing to protect them. They wanted to hurt Lily, but they hurt only me because our parents didn't matter to her. She didn't even come to the funeral. She left me alone."

Petunia sobbed unrestrainedly. Harry stared dumbstruck. He couldn't believe _… it wasn't my fault … had it been my fault? Had they attacked my parents thirteen years ago or had they tried to kill me? If I hadn't been there, would my mother still live? Would she have been able to escape? _

His numb mind understood that Petunia put the fault of her parents' death at his mother's feet. In a way she was right: His mother could have stayed at home. She could have been less the Gryffindor and stayed away from James, Sirius and Remus. Without Voldemort targeting her, his Death Eaters would have left her parents alone, at least his Evans-grandparents. James' parents – as far as he knew – had been killed for other reasons.

"I can't protect you anymore, Harry," Petunia's voice faltered. _What did she mean with protecting me?_ Harry wondered. Scared he noticed that his Aunt had started to stagger. He had never seen her like this. Yes, Petunia was an awful woman, an awful mother and aunt. But she had been strong all the time, never showed a hint of weakness.

"It's too dangerous for my family. They'll kill my son if you stay with us." Her voice was only a whisper now, broken. Her right hand was pressed against her temple. "I lost Mum. I lost my …"

She was far enough gone to not complain about Severus putting a hand under her elbow to steady her. Despite the help she staggered even more. "Auntie …" Harry grabbed her. Something dripped from her face on his arm, wet – tears … and blood.

"My little Lily … they killed my little Lily." Harry tried to lead her to the couch, horrified by the sight of blood running from her nose. After two steps her legs simply gave away and she crumpled to the floor. Something was really weird here, something was completely wrong. What had they done through reminding Petunia of the past?

"Auntie?" Harry kneeled at her side. He didn't really notice that Snape sent his Patronus away.

"I can't lose my Duddy too," Petunia barely whispered. She tried to pat his cheek but hadn't enough strength to lift her hand. The tears running from her eyes mingled with the blood dripping from her nose and splattered on her shirt. "You have Lily's eyes," she stated with a soft smile. Slowly she closed her eyes. "Sweet Lily's eyes. She was so proud of you … when we met at Mum's … mum's grave. She …"

"Auntie?"

Petunia didn't react. Helpless Harry watched his unconscious Aunt.

"We should put her on the couch, the head high because of the blood. I sent message to your godmother." Severus composure was the rock Harry needed in this moment. He was confused. What happened? Why did his Aunt behave like this? And why was her sorrow troubling him? He hated her, like she had hated him and his mother, didn't he?

"What happened to her? She never behaved like that."

"I have an idea," Severus answered "but I hope that I'm wrong."

.

"Stay away from my wife, you freaks."

Dudley and Vernon had returned the same moment Roxanne Greengrass and Ana Hernandez had arrived at Privet Drive 4. Since then Vernon had been shouting at 'the freaks'. He had tried to shoo them out, his 'guests' unwilling to leave. Harry still sat at his aunt's side, watching Dudley with wide eyes. His lazy whale of a cousin had always been a 'father's boy', always following his father's steps and opinions. Never had he a nice word for his mum; never esteemed what she did for him. But now he was sitting on the other side of her, clinging to her, trying to wake her.

Suddenly he turned around to the bickering adults and yelled full force. "Stop it now, all of you. Dad, sit down."

Totally shocked Vernon followed the order and heavily slumped down on a chair. His son stared at Roxanne, his voice trembling: "You're Harry's godmother, aren't you?" She nodded and Dudley continued: "Help her please."

"I can't allow …" Vernon started to rise from his seat only to be stopped by another outburst of his son. "Just shut your mouth! Mum needs help." With a very caring gesture he used his handkerchief to wipe the tears and blood away.

"We should put her in her bed first, Severus."

The potions master simple nodded and stepped towards the couch. Dudley hesitated for a moment, until Harry whispered: "It's okay, Dudley."

With surprising ease Severus lifted the woman and followed Dudley and Harry towards the bedroom, Roxanne close behind. Vernon stayed on his chair, fuming and ignoring the weird lady with the black hair and tanned skin. Ana glared at him for a moment before turning away. Roxanne would call her in a few minutes and she wanted to use the time. Ignoring the magic-hating man she started to cast some spells, slowly walking through the house. The whole family was simply too unnatural in their behavior. Yes, she knew that such families existed, but with the experience of the last months, she had other fears.

And then there was the woman's nose-bleeding. She had still to examine her, but it was a sure sign that her memories tried to break through a very strong memory seal. _Another victim of him_, Ana Hernandez fumed. Minutes later she had found, what she had feared and expected to find.

"Leave that alone," Vernon's sudden voice startled her. He had watched her with boiling rage but stayed quiet so far. Only now as she grabbed the old family music box, he tried to stop her. He even dared to reach for her arm, a move he regretted seconds later. A sudden rotation, a fast motion and a flick of her wrist – before Vernon knew what had happened to him his heavy body was flying around and smashing into a glass vitrine.

"Ahem," the voice of Severus prompted her to turn around. "Not that I wouldn't appreciate the educational gesture, but what caused this mess?"

Ana only lifted the music box, but otherwise ignored him. "Irrespective – Roxanne needs you."

.

Severus – who had taken on the task to heal Vernon – returned to the bed room to find Petunia in deep slumber. Dudley was still at her side, but now he had hope in his eyes again. Roxanne and Ana were discussing the results of their examination, while Harry was only listening. From minute to minute he felt his anger rising about what he heard.

"Her seizure perhaps had its benefits," Ana explained. "Someone messed with her memories, but not as heavily as with Severus. Speaking about the past apparently broke down the seal. Now her mind is confused, trying to merge her true memories with the implanted ones."

"Can we help her?" Harry asked, but Dudley listened intensely. They were freaks, weren't they? His parents had told him so. But they wanted to help his mom and Harry's godmother had stopped the bleeding. His mum wasn't so pale anymore, her sleep healthier. Perhaps they could do more for her. He would risk it and no one would stop him, not even his father.

"I could try to unveil her real memories. Apparently he only blocked a few moments of her life, but they were important moments, moments influencing how she felt towards her sister and Harry."

"He?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"Dumbledore, there is no doubt. I found a memory about him speaking with your aunt the night he gave you into her care."

"He didn't visit her," Severus interrupted. "Minerva told me how Albus put him on the door sill. She had been furious about that."

"No," Ana shook her head. "He returned and spoke with your Aunt that night, Harry. He laid the foundation …" She hesitated and looked quizzical at him. "Do you really want to know that?"

"Yes," Harry nodded "I want to SEE it."

"Alright," Ana sighed "you will."

.

"_Good evening, Mrs. Dursley." Albus Dumbledore, wearing his glistening robes and his eyes twinkling, was a very foreign sight. But Petunia Dursley was far more interested why the old man visited her in the middle of the night with Lily's child on his arms. She knew Harry, knew him since she met her sister one week after her parents' funeral. She had been so angry at Lily. How could she allow this to happen? How could she allow their parents to die, killed because some madman tried to hurt her? _

_Somewhere deep below she understood that Lily was unable to take part at the funeral. Certainly some follower of that madman was waiting for her, to attack or catch her should she dare to show her face. But still she was so sad and angry. She needed her, needed her darling sister. Vernon wasn't the man to support her in moments like this. He didn't understand sorrow, didn't understand real family love. _

_But then, one week later, Petunia had visited the graves only to find her sister curled on the ground, sobbing onto the grave of their mother. James had been there too, guarding her, nodding weakly towards Petunia. She had hated him too, but in this moment she was happy that Lily had a husband who was willing and able to stand at her side. Before Petunia knew what she was doing she had been clinging to her sister, all hate forgotten, both struggling to give each other some security. _

_Petunia had seen her nephew on that day. They had agreed that – should anything happen to Lily – Harry wouldn't stay with her. Harry already showed signs of accidental magic and Petunia wouldn't be able to cope with that. And Vernon hated and despised magic, called them freaks. No, Harry would have to live with someone else._

"_It is my painful duty to inform you about the death of Lily and James Potter. They were killed this night …"_

_Dumbledore hadn't been able to continue, because of Petunia's wailing. The headmaster stared at her – shocked by her raw emotions – and only noticed Vernon's appearance when the heavy-set man started to yell. Instead of soothing his mourning wife he tried to shoo Dumbledore out and the child with him. In the last moment Petunia stopped him. "How is he? Is he well? Shouldn't …" Petunia struggled to find words. "Shouldn't he be with his godmother now? Lily told me about her – Roxanne. She wanted him to be with her, should something … happen."_

"_No, that's not possible." Dumbledore shook his head. "It's too dangerous for him to live in our world. He has to live here, in the Muggle world and near a blood relative. There is magic that will protect him as long as he'll be here. It will prohibit that they find him."_

"_I don't want a freak in my house," Vernon yelled._

"_He is no freak, Vernon," Petunia whispered, still shocked from the news._

"_There doesn't have to be magic, Mister Dursley." Dumbledore soothed him. "It would be better for Harry to grow up without magic, knowing a normal life. Better you don't tell him too much about his parents later. At least until he is old enough to understand. No, he should be here, far away from the dangers of our magical world. You should raise him with a firm hand and a reasonable mind. His father had his flaws. He was too proud and temperamental. It caused more than enough problems for him and Lily. It would be better for Harry not to take after him too much."_

_Vernon listened carefully and nodded after a while. He understood. He would rear the brat and knock the nonsense out of him. He had never liked James and would see to his son not to take after him._

_With false sympathy Albus continued: "Mrs. Dursley – I understand that this is difficult for you. Especially after your sister did nothing to protect your parents. I'm certain she had her reasons to do so. Perhaps she was simply afraid to leave her hideout. But she is gone now, killed because a madman wanted to kill Harry. She sacrificed herself to protect him. Please don't let her sacrifice be in vain."_

.

"I should kill him," Harry fumed.

"He convinced her to take the boy. But in the same moment he laid the foundation of her hate, convinced her that Lily voluntarily allowed Voldemort to kill her parents. And he convinced her that you had been the reason for Lily's death, the death of the sister she still loved."

"Will," Harry asked "will she know all this after awakening?"

"Yes," Ana nodded. "She will know all about the conversation and all about her meeting and reconciliation with Lily at their parents' grave."

"But something I don't understand," Harry continued after some minutes of silence. "Why did she treat me like this? Did she really believe that I was to blame for mum's death?"

"Harry … your Aunt had many bad moments in her life, much sorrow and grief. She tried to cope with it in her own way, a way that needed a culprit. But I fear that – while your Aunt's hate, your uncle's disgust about magic and certain traits of your cousin were natural – their extent wasn't."

Slowly she walked to the table and took the music box, now wrapped with a ribbon with runes on it. "Severus, please take this to Filius. Tell him that I await the result of his examination."

"Wait," Dudley glared at the music box. "Why? What do you want with this? It's Mum's music box. She belonged to grandma before, Mum told me. Nobody was allowed to touch it, not even I."

"Dudley," Ana explained slowly. "Apparently someone put a spell on this box. It is meant to enhance bad emotions in the people around it."

"You mean I'm angrier around it?"

"Yes," Ana nodded. "You feel more hate, more disgust, and more violence."

"Was this the reason that my parents never loved each other?"

Harry stared at him. He never thought about it, but Dudley was right. There had never been real emotion behind the gestures of Petunia and Vernon, no love, only well-played roles. Only towards her son had Petunia ever shown real affection. And even those moments had been sparse.

"I don't know, Dudley. I don't know if there ever was more than friendship between your parents, but this music box certainly didn't help."

"And will it get better if you'll take it away?"

"Yes, it will. But like the things I did to her mind, it will need time. She'll need help for some weeks, perhaps even months, to cope with her past. And you'll certainly feel some changes too."

"Perhaps you'll even eat less and work more," Harry tried a joke. "Sorry, Dudley, that was uncalled for."

"No, it's okay. But now only Mum is important. What will you do now?"

Ana looked quizzical at Roxanne, while Roxanne was exchanging looks with Harry. In the end it was Harry who offered: "We'll take her with us, Dudley. You may come too."

"No, I won't allow this, you freaks." Vernon stomped into the room, trying to intimidate everyone but failing miserably.

"Shut up, Vernon," Harry growled. "Auntie's welfare was never of any interest to you. But we care." The gesture, how he put his hand on Dudley's shoulder was shocking to everyone, everyone aside Dudley. Both felt their shared concern for Petunia at that moment. "She's family. You never leave family behind. Perhaps someday you'll understand that."

.

_**Pinegrew Manor – a few hours later**_

.

Silently Daphne was watching her boyfriend. Hermione and Neville were still at the Grangers, Professor Snape had departed a while ago and Roxanne and Ana still tried to help Petunia and a very confused Dudley.

Since their arrival Harry had been running around in the room, the carpet showing clearly the path he preferred to run. With a low voice he was cursing, threatening the former headmaster with 99 punishments straight from hell. Dumbles had put him into his Aunt's care regardless of his mother's wishes. He convinced her of Harry's fault and how to raise him, more or less told Vernon to beat the magic out of him. And as the icing on the cake he left behind a spell that strengthened their worst emotions. Even without it, they never would have been a happy family – not with those lies he planted in Petunia's mind – but through the box his childhood had been a living hell.

"Argh."

With a sudden explosion of temper he sent a Reducto against one of the cupboards, plastering the ground with hundreds of broken fragments. A dozen further Reductos trashed the few rests and even destroyed carpet and wallpaper around the broken furniture. Apart from a few well-placed Silencio Spells, Daphne didn't react. Harry needed this. Despite all his self-control he had to let lose now, at least a bit. And better he destroyed some plates than he tried to kill the target of his fury. She was certain: Should Dumbles enter the room at this moment, harry would attack him.

Breathing heavily Harry watched the scene of utter carnage in front of him.

"You overlooked a plate." Slowly one of the plates rose from the ground, waiting to be blasted away. Instead Harry grabbed it and looked at it thoughtfully, before his attention returned to the room.

"I overreacted a bit." He simply stated.

"Only a tiny bit," Daphne smiled. She tapped on the seat at her side and Harry followed her silent command, dropping the single plate before he sat down, resting his head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to."

.

Like this Luna found them an hour later. Ignoring the mess around her, the blond girl fetched a cushion and put in on the ground in front of the couch. Taking a seat she stared at Harry and Daphne. Luna had received Daphne's letter, an invitation to Pinegrew matter and the prospect to speak about a new article. With a small smile Luna fetched a notepad from her pocket and started to write.

"Co-owner of the Quibbler disappointed about the lack of progress in the search for the Crumple-horned Snorkacks. Destroyed part of his home in a fit of rage when he heard about the last failure."

Her face was so serious, that Daphne was unable to battle her giggle. Harry softly smiled: "We'll find them, Luna, I assure you."

"I know," she simply stated, completely secure in her opinion that with Harry on her side she would be able to fulfill her father's dream.

"But at the moment the world isn't ready for them, Luna," Daphne said. "Perhaps we could write another article in the meantime."

Harry stared at his girlfriend: "What kind of article?"

Daphne sighed. "I know, Harry, you don't want to speak about your childhood. But perhaps it is time to allow the public a tiny glimpse into your past. Not much, but I'm sure that they would be interested to hear about Dumble's visit at your Aunt's home and the reason for her treating you like shit all these years."

"We can't tell them about the music box. Grandma will need it as a surprise next week."

That he didn't reject the idea out of hand relieved Daphne. "But we can speak about the lies. And about your mother's wishes. Your mother deserves it – and your Aunt too. She may be awful but not like this." With a malicious grin she ended: "And it would certainly piss off Dumbles."

After some minutes of silently thinking about it Harry slowly nodded. "We'll do this."

.

_**A/N**_

_Next time it will be the "End of an Era". _

_Some __**explanation about Petunia**__: She isn't a really nice woman, she is 'normal'. She's blaming her sister for the death of her parents (in my opinion a false but understandable reaction). She reconciled with her a week after the funeral, but Dumbles removed that memory. He heightened Petunia's hate towards her sister and Vernon's disgust of magic, before he left. Even without all this, there hadn't been a 'loving foursome family'. But at least Petunia would have treated her nephew in a responsible manner. Harry and his friends now learned that Dumbles made this impossible. He's not happy._


	42. Chapter 42 End of an Era (Part 1)

**A/N**

_The next two chapters are perhaps a bit verbose. But I thought a meeting to get lost of Dumbledore after more than 40 years as a Headmaster should be a little detailed. It won't be 'only' about Ginny's suicide attempt but other incidents of the last years too (Arthur is able to complain about it because in every incident one of his children had been injured or endangered.) I hope you'll enjoy it._

_By the way: In these chapters there will be some accusations against Dumbledore. Please remember that it is something different to convince a batch of governors or to prove it in a court. These accusations will be able to blemish Dumbledore's reputation, but not put him into Azkaban or do something similar._

**.**

**End of an Era (1)**

.

_**Pinegrew Manor – Daphne's Bedroom – 18th of April – Tuesday Early Morning**_

.

Slowly she came to her senses, pulling out of her troubled sleep. Since they got to know about the manipulation of the Dursleys' and especially Petunia's emotions and memories, the nights had been disturbed by bad dreams. Two nights ago it had been bad enough, that Daphne had invaded the privacy of Harry's bedroom and slipped under his duvet, holding him through his nightmares. In the beginning it had been a surprise to watch him develop feelings for his Aunt, but in the end she should have expected it. Harry had wished for a family his whole life and Petunia still belonged to it. Now, with his knowledge about her true character – still not the most pleasant one but far away from the harpy he had endured for a decade – he allowed himself to hope again.

She had expected this night to be troubled too, the night before the meeting of the Board of Governors. If all went well, Dumbles wouldn't be Headmaster anymore by the end of the week. Daphne really hoped that they'll succeed with their little project; that the meddlesome coot wouldn't be able to wriggle out of the affair again. He was very adept at convincing others of his good intentions and often enough others had forgiven his 'little misdeeds'. Hopefully this day would be different.

Pulling her own cover aside, Daphne rose from her bed and listened. Nothing could be heard from Harry's room. It was only 6 AM and perhaps he was still sleeping. But Daphne doubted it. It was far more realistic to expect him to have his room protected by some silence spells, to not disturb his family. Daphne smiled: _His family_. He had started to call them this and she really liked it. How much had changed since his arrival at the manor 9 months ago, how much had changed between them. In the beginning she had hoped to chase him off as fast as possible. And now she hoped that he would stay for a very long time.

Her hand went to her mouth. He had kissed her a few hours ago, before he went to sleep. "We'll succeed, Daphne," he had whispered. And she believed him. She didn't want to leave Hogwarts, she liked the school, she liked most of the teachers – none more than the petite Charms professor, not even Poppy who was a close second – and she liked her friends. But they would go to Toledo should Dumbdork win again. She ground her teeth. _No, he wouldn't win_.

Putting on her dressing gown – a silk Japanese one, a Christmas gift from her sister – and simple slippers, she left her room and sneaked to the door of Harry's room. A bit surprised she heard someone working therein. Someone mumbled angrily and it wasn't Harry. She opened the door only to find Paddoc cleaning and tidying the room. He was just putting clean sheets on the bed with no Harry in sight.

"Paddoc, what are you doing?"

The grumpy house-elf turned around and grimaced. "What does it look like? Cleaning, don't you think so, Mistress?"

Daphne grinned. Paddoc had always been especially grouchy and his tongue had been sharp towards everyone. But he was incredible loyal and once saved her mother from severe injuries or even death in a car accident. They allowed him to behave like this, enduring his grumpy attitude with humor. But something must have happened for him to be like this at this early hour.

"And Harry?"

"He's not cleaning." Paddoc mumbled something about young masters not having any conception of order and only being able to mess around, before he explained: "He's down in the kitchen with Ciddy." Without any further explanation, Paddoc whirled around and continued to clean the room. With a last smile and a little wondering frown Daphne left and started her way to the kitchen.

.

The first thing she noticed was the smell. Chocolate and dough – it came from a baking plate covered with a large cloth. Then there was noise and confusion. House elves were running around, working at the stations or preparing the dining table. It was normally used by the house elves but someone had enlarged it. Now it was appropriate for humans too and two of the elves had started to put plates and cups on it. Ciddy was sitting on a sideboard and watching Harry with wide eyes. He was using a pan to prepare blueberry pancakes and it looked damned good how he was working.

This certainly solved the mystery about Paddoc's mood. "Young Mistress doesn't belong into the kitchen," he had scolded her the last time, Daphne tried to surprise her mother with self-prepared breakfast. Paddoc regarded humans working in 'his' kitchen as an insult, like he wouldn't be able to care for them. Unsurprisingly Harry had been stubborn enough to get his way nonetheless.

"Leave the plate alone," Harry ordered without looking in her direction. Hastily Daphne retreated from the table where she had just tried to uncover the baking plate. With a last elegant panache he put the pancake on the pile and the pan on the stove, before he turned around and grinned at Daphne. _He's happy and relaxed_, Daphne wondered. _Kitchen work apparently does wonders to improve his mood_.

Before she knew what happened, Harry stepped forward, put an arm around her waist and pulled Daphne at his chest. "Good morning, sweetie-pie."

Daphne frowned deeply and opened her mouth to scold him for that ugly nickname, but was stopped by his lips on hers. "I hope you slept well without me," he whispered, causing her to blush. Glaring at him she smacked his shoulders. "You're dirty and … floury," with a frown she brushed away some flour from his shirt. Before she could continue with his face, that showed even more hints of his work, Harry leaned forward and rubbed his face – and the lingering flour – into her gown like a cuddling puppy.

"Harry," she pushed him away. "That's disgusting."

"You say I'm disgusting," he pouted.

"Not you … your behavior." _You're adorable cute_, Daphne mused with a smile.

"And I?" He asked with a broad smirk, slowly sneaking in her direction. Daphne stepped backwards, trying to avoid Harry and his blueberry hands. Over his shoulder she saw a broadly grinning Ciddy watching the scene. _We're not alone_, Daphne realized with a shock. Hastily looking around she noticed that everyone was looking at them. She slipped, but Harry's seeker reflexes allowed him to catch her in time. "You're all … floury … and sweaty … and full of blueberries and …"

Again he kissed her and all reluctance was forgotten. He drew back but only a handbreadth and smiled: "Hello you."

As he leant forward again, someone coughed. "I heard breakfast is ready."

Blushing furiously Daphne detected her mother and grandma, clad in dressing gowns and broadly grinning, standing over there and watching them. Her grandma's eyes were resting on the floury hand print on Daphne's derriere. _Perhaps it wasn't so bad_, Harry pondered, _that Cyrus Greengrass wasn't the typical father, trying to chase away every 'lecherous boy'_.

"How long have you been here?" Daphne asked meekly.

"Long enough," Agatha smirked and slowly went to the table.

Daphne felt herself lifted from the ground and carried bride style to her place. "I am able to walk, thank you very much" she growled.

"You're even more beautiful, when you're angry."

Neither the comment nor the smiles of her family were helping her blushing in any way.

"Who wants a pancake?"

.

An hour later they were still eating. Augusta, Neville and Hermione had joined them as well as Ana and Remus. Everyone tried to avoid speaking about today, about the meeting. But it was still in everybody's mind. Again Daphne stared at the empty chair at her side. Harry – after providing everyone with one of his self-baked Muffins – had left the kitchen some minutes ago. She had an idea what he was doing and had ordered Ciddy to prepare two additional chairs at the table.

As expected he returned a few minutes later with his aunt and cousin in tow. Both stared wide-eyed at the table and seemed to be a bit reluctant to join them. Harry stepped between Petunia and Dudley, linked arms with them and dragged them into the kitchen.

"Auntie … these are my very best friend Hermione Granger, her boyfriend Neville Longbottom and his Grandma Augusta. The silent one over there is Remus Lupin."

Petunia slowly nodded and even showed a very small smile. "I remember him from Lily's wedding. You have been the reasonable one among her friends."

"Hello Petunia," Remus nodded. "I'm happy that you're …" He stopped, not knowing how to continue. _That you're yourself again? That you're not longer a harpy_?

After a small nod of his girlfriend, Harry led Petunia and Dudley to the empty chairs and her side. Both behaved very shy for the next minutes. While they had been guests of Pinegrew Manor for four days already, they had avoided the other inhabitants most of the time. Only Ana, who had been treating Petunia, had spent more than a few minutes with them. Harry threw a pleading look towards Daphne to break the ice and she nodded slightly.

"What do you want to do later, Dudley?" Daphne asked kindly. He only shrugged and stared toward his plate. Dudley wasn't really hungry and unwilling to eat more than some tiny bits, quite a change to his behavior only a week ago. "Harry told me you're great at sports." Dudley looked up and glanced at his cousin, still uneasy how to behave around him. "Perhaps you could train in our gym. I'm not very good at those things, but Harry and Neville could use it well to train a bit themselves."

Harry and Neville glared, Roxanne smiled and Hermione tried to hide her grin.

"I would like that." Dudley nodded with a shy smile.

Harry smiled happily at his girlfriend. Leave it to her charm to pull Dudley out of his shell. He still couldn't forget the past, but with the charmed music box out of their life, Harry was willing to give his Aunt and Cousin a second chance. _What do you want to do later?_ Daphne had asked. _What about Petunia?_ Harry wondered. She had never spoken about her dreams, at least not with him around.

"Petunia?" Harry started slowly. "Did you have dreams in your youth about your life? I mean: Did you always want to be mother and wife or …" He pointed towards his cousin: "Dudley will leave the house in a few years. What will you do then?"

Petunia sighed, concentrating on her nephew and trying hard to ignore the eyes of everyone else resting on her. "I wanted to be a mother, yes, wanted family, a house and a garden. But I also wanted to study."

"Study?" Perhaps it wasn't nice to show his surprise so open, but he had never expected this. But, thinking longer about it, perhaps it could have been expected. Her sister had been the brightest witch at Hogwarts until Hermione entered the school. Petunia couldn't be as dumb and simple as she appeared sometimes. Had she downplayed her intelligence because of her husband? It was quite possible that Vernon reacted similar to the 'old Dudley', jealous of anyone more intelligent than him.

"I wanted to study 'Applied Mathematics'. It's about problems like how thick has a bridge pillar to be, how strong have you to design a steel beam to endure an earthquake or what life expectancy should a machine have." Harry had only a basic knowledge of mathematics but a single look into the awed face of Daphne showed him, that this was certainly an extremely complicated part of mathematics. "It was how I met Vernon. I had an internship in his company's engineering office."

"Why didn't you continue, Mom?" Dudley asked flabbergasted. Apparently this was a side of his mother completely new to him too.

"Your father …" Petunia shrugged. "He wanted me at home." For a moment Harry saw a hint of sadness in her eyes, but hastily she hid it again.

"Be right back," Harry whispered and left. After some minutes he returned and put a book onto the table beside Petunia's place. Daphne had realized instantly what it was and nodded, smiling broadly. This was a splendid idea.

"That's Mum's Arithmancy book. She used it in her third year at Hogwarts. Arithmancy is very similar to Mathematics as far as I know. Perhaps you could have a look. But you have to speak about it with Hermione or Daphne."

Gently Petunia caressed the book. _Lily's book_. "I'll have a look. Thank you, Harry."

.

_**Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office – 18th of April – Tuesday Late Morning**_

.

Cold blue eyes were scanning the front page of the newest Quibbler. It was a special edition and simply looking at the picture below the headline nearly gave him a stroke. _This couldn't be a coincidence_, he knew, _this special article being published today of all days_. He really had to stop the Lovegoods, prevent them from publishing more articles about Potter, spreading more lies.

But first he had to stop Weasley. It was a shame. Arthur had been his steadfast minion for a long time. That he chose to betray him now had been an awful surprise. After the meeting he would have to smash his reputation, show everyone that he was unwilling to endure more lies. And he had to force Molly back into control of her family. It was needed for the greater good. With a sigh he pushed the thought aside and concentrated on the article again.

.

_**Family wanted – Fame to shed**_

_By Luna Lovegood_

.

His eyes wandered towards the picture again. Petunia Dursley was sitting on a chair in a simple dress, her eyes showing a mix of sorrow and exhaustion. Behind her stood her son Dudley and Harry Potter, his left hand resting on her shoulder, his right arm around his cousin's back. It wasn't meant to be like that. It was meant to only be hate between them and disgust. How could this happen?

_._

_I remember fairly well the day my father told me about the boy-who-lived for the first time. Back then, only six years old, I didn't understand that there was something wrong about his story, about the idea of a one-year-old beating the worst wizard around in a duel. In my imagination he was the greatest hero in the world and I so wished to meet him one day. My best friend Ginny Weasley and I spent a large part of our childhood dreaming about him. More than once we were fighting about who would get him in the end, until we decided – very fairly we thought – that we'll allow him to choose between us. But it had to be one of us; nobody else was worth to have him – Harry Potter – the boy-who-lived._

_Then we met him for the first time. We were eleven and he twelve. Our dream became true, perhaps even better now, because he wasn't the typical hero. Yes, he was incredible brave, but he was also very friendly, caring, sometimes shy and the most faithful friend you could imagine. _

_But one thing he was not: The boy-who-lived-happily-ever-after._

.

With growing anger Albus followed the article, followed the description of Harry's life. Starting with the day his parents died, explaining to everyone how happy Harry would have been to exchange all his fame for a few more years with his family. There was another picture, this one showing Albus with the baby at the Dursleys' doorstep. There could only be one source of this picture: Minerva's memory. How could she betray him like this?

The article continued with a description of the next decade: Harry living in a cupboard, Harry getting his first room with bars at the window and a bolt to lock the room. In another picture Harry was shown wearing handed-down clothes of his cousin, the boy way too thin and small for his age.

_He had to work in the house and in the garden, Dudley Dursley explained in our interview. I never had to do chores, but I got the best meals, while Harry was often too exhausted to even eat the few scraps he was allowed to have. My friends and I chased away anybody willing to befriend him. And because I was bad at school, he had to be too. Now, having seen house-elves at work for the first time, I know that we treated him far worse. Someone told me about the protection of a family: I wonder if he ever saw family in us. I doubt it very much._

Albus hadn't expected that Harry would ever be willing to share his private life like this. Certainly it was the Pinegrew-bitches' fault again. The article showed Albus as an uncaring fiend, neither respecting the wishes of Potter's parents nor willing to assure his welfare for a long time. He had to prove that someone messed with the Dursleys' memories; he had to prove that Harry had a happy childhood. Or would it be better to explain why he had done this; that he only wanted Harry to grow up as a normal person? He had to think about this.

_His mother never wished her son to grow up with her sister. Not because she didn't love her, but Lily Potter knew about the problems of a magical child growing up in a muggle family. I assume that every Muggleborn wizard and many half-bloods understand these problems. Every Squib will know about something similar too: The jealousy between siblings, the issues of parents to understand their child, similar but different too._

_Muggle Petunia and Witch Lily grew up as loving sister, but the magic distanced them. While Lily left for Hogwarts, her sister had to stay behind. The fights could be expected. And it only grew much worse when their parents were killed by Death Eaters, trying to hurt Lily Potter with their death, but hurting her sister too. Magic had robbed her sister and killed her parents. How could Muggle Petunia not hate magic?_

_It was no surprise that Petunia Evans hated magic from the depths of her heart when Albus Dumbledore – ignoring the wishes of Lily Potter – appeared at her door and begged her to rear the boy. She didn't send him away, but took him in. _

"_You never leave behind your family."_

_You assume that this is simply a tradition of pureblood families? You're wrong. Muggle Petunia Evans followed this commandment too. But she had no chance to ever love the boy, to ever behave towards him like a responsible parent, like she would have been despite her hate towards magic. You ask me why?_

Albus nodded. Hastily he turned the page of the paper to continue reading. From sentence to sentence his blood pressure was raising more. They knew. They couldn't know – impossible.

_Three reasons: Lies, memory charms and compulsion spells._

Albus was fuming.

_It would be fairly easy to hate Petunia and her family for what she did to Harry Potter. It would be easy to despise her and think: That's the way of Muggles, we should have expected it._

_But what if there was someone who messed with her mind? Someone who told her lies to increase her hate of magic and estrange her even more from her sister? It is easy to alter memories, easy to obliviate moments of joy and sisterly love. And even easier it is to alter emotions, decrease love and increase every bad thought and feeling through the use of charms. And this someone wasn't a Muggle, but a Pureblood Wizard._

_I don't want to insist that Petunia would have been the best guardian for Harry without this messing around with her mind. In contrary I know that both sisters didn't want her to be it. But I know too, that she never had a chance to show her real self. Now, with her mind her own again, with her memories back and the influence broken, she'll have a new chance. Harry is willing to offer her this chance despite their past._

_I only hope that you all allow both – Harry and Petunia – to have a chance at becoming a family now. Don't mess with them again._

_._

_**Hogwarts – Great Hall – 18th of April – Tuesday Early Afternoon**_

.

Most of the students had left the hall an hour ago after their lunch. While the meeting of the Board of Governors was public – at least the first part about Headmaster Dumbledore – it was only in theory so. The press of curious people was far too great to allow entrance to everyone. So many parents had shown up, so many Ministry officials and journalists that only those students were allowed to attend who had the consent of their Head of the House.

A large table with twelve seats dominated the room, arranged like an 'L' with nine seats at the long side and three at the short. A bit apart was the place of the headmaster and a seat for witnesses. To the left the Ministry had found their place around an armchair for the Minister himself. He was only a spectator like everybody else, but his presence was proof enough of the importance of this day. And it was the first hint for Albus Dumbledore that this meeting could perhaps be more serious than he had assumed so far.

Harry, surrounded by his friends and family, had chosen a bench to the right, allowing him to look into Dumbledore's face. Behind him, a bit shielded from everyone, Petunia sat at the side of Emma Granger. They weren't the only Muggles in the room, but certainly drawing the most interest. More than once someone pointed towards Petunia and whispered with his neighbor.

A weird moment had been the entrance of Cyrus Greengrass. He had politely if coldly greeted his family, before he offered his hand for Harry to shake. A bit hesitantly he had accepted, unsure why the pureblood patriarch suddenly showed this kind of interest.

"I wish you luck with your endeavor," he simply stated, before he left after a last nod.

A bit confused Harry looked around. Roxanne shrugged and Narcissa Malfoy – who was sitting only a short distance away together with her son and Astoria – rolled her eyes and smiled shortly. Harry felt himself reciprocate the smile. _Yes_, he mused, _perhaps she is really changing_. He had been surprised to hear from Sirius about their latest conversation. Narcissa had promised to help him regain the status of the Head of House Black. As a quid pro quo she demanded his support in her family matters. Not all was well in House Malfoy, apparently. But for now, with Lucius as their 'trusted ally', they had to stay quiet about this.

_The future will be interesting_, Harry mused.

A bit to the left was the area for the journalists. Luna was sitting there with Colin at her father's side. She simply stared at the table with her dreamy eyes, ignorant to the fact that she was the most famous journalist today. Her father was beaming with proudness, his face clearly showing that he wanted to yell "she's my daughter" to everyone.

Dumbledore, his robe today not as colorful as expected, was sitting at his small table, struggling to show a confident face. Staring at the paper he was holding, he mumbled something, apparently preparing one of his renowned speeches.

_They won't help you today_, Harry hissed toneless. _Your era is at its end_.

.

The governors had entered the Hall and taken their seats with dignity. One member of the examination committee and two members each with links to the four houses belonged to the board of governors. Most of the seats had belonged to a family for generations while ancient Examiner Griselda Marchbanks was a tradition in herself.

Harry sent a smile to Agatha Pinegrew, who was sitting between Augusta Longbottom and Florian Davies, an Uncle of the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain Roger Davies. Naturally he recognized Lucius Malfoy. The dark-tanned woman with the raven-black hair at his side could only be Blaize Zabini's mother. Two of the Governors – one each with a tie from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor – were unknown to him, but the last one he had seen a few times since the start of the tournament: Amos Diggory.

"I don't believe it," Hermione whispered fervently. "That's Mister Blotts." She pointed towards a grey-haired man, sitting at the short side of the table between Amelia Bones and a toad-like woman in a ridiculous pink cardigan.

"Blotts who?" Neville whispered back. _At least I'm not the only one without any idea_, Harry grinned.

"Blotts – like in 'Flourish and Blotts'," Daphne explained.

Harry rolled his eyes. Sure he had to sit between the only two students who were able to recognize the book mogul.

"What's he doing here?" Hermione asked. "Do you think I could talk with him later?"

Now it was Neville's moment to roll his eyes, but he made sure to look into another direction and pat his girlfriend's hand.

"Grandma told me, he's here for the second part. They want him to give input about the cost and selection of the books of the new courses they intend to start next autumn. Amelia is certainly here as an observer for the DMLE in case there is more to do about Dumbles. And the toad, that's Um-bitch … I mean Umbridge" she corrected herself after a cough of her mother. "She belongs to the Ministry."

Harry nodded to himself. Remus had told him about Um-bitch. Apparently she had been the source of most anti-werewolf legislative initiatives of the past decade. Not a woman he wanted to have around, certainly.

"There's Arthur," Neville pointed out. "Here we go!"

.

_He looks better now_, Harry pondered, _exhausted and a bit sad but stronger and more self-confident_.

Arthur Weasley had entered the hall together with his eldest son Bill. Dumbles' smile had only been answered by two glares. _Be happy, that neither Charlie nor one of the twins is there instead of the controlled Bill_, Harry grinned. _They would have beaten you to a bloody pulp instead of only glaring_.

Charlie had visited Daphne a week ago and written several times while she had still been in the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts. A bone-crushing hug and his inability to stop thanking her had left Daphne a bit shaken. When Daphne once tried to apologize for not recognizing the danger earlier, he had stopped her. "Nobody could have done more for my baby sister. I'll never forget what you did for her." After that there had been a fit of temper as he began to ramble about Dumbles and what should be done to him. Ripping the arms from their sockets and feeding him with his own tongue were the more harmless ideas.

_No_, Harry grinned, _be happy that Charlie isn't here_.

"Mister Weasley," Augusta Longbottom addressed the Weasley patriarch. "You wished to file an official complaint against Headmaster Dumbledore. Before we start this meeting, I have to ask: Do you wish to continue? Would you be agreeable to an accommodation, perhaps together with an apology from Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Dumbles' face showed a grimace like he was biting on a lemon. But to his 'luck' Arthur wasn't willing to stop now. "I want to go on," he stated with a hard voice. _I never heard him like this_, Harry pondered. _He was always so soft-spoken_. "I won't accept an apology or any other accommodation. I wish to file an official complaint and demand the resignation of Headmaster Dumbledore. Should you not follow my wishes, I will extract my children from this school."

Dumbledore shook his head, his expression unhappy but not very concerned.

_The Weasleys aren't important enough. To lose them as students would only be a minor setback for him. On the other hand_ …

Harry looked to his side, when he felt Daphne kicking him slightly. She nodded towards Arthur and Harry understood.

"Lady Longbottom? If I may?"

Dumbledore frowned in his direction, but Augusta only nodded: "It is unusual but you may speak, before we continue. But only this once; only because we haven't officially started."

"Thank you, Lady Longbottom." Harry sensed the smile of his mother who appreciated his effort to behave properly.

"I only wanted to add, that my friends and I wish to support the Weasley family in this matter. Should the Board of Governors not follow Mister Weasley's request, Miss Daphne Greengrass, Mister Neville Longbottom, Miss Hermione Granger and I will leave the school too. We'll certainly regret to leave, because we really love this school, their teacher and our friends and housemates. But we can't tolerate such a Headmaster and his dangerous meddling anymore. Thank you, Lady Longbottom," Harry bowed slightly and sat down again.

Quite a murmur went through the room after this statement. Dumbledore looked shocked and Augusta needed some time to steady the spectators again. "Thank you, Mister Potter. Now I declare this meeting to be officially opened. Mister Weasley, please start with your complaint."

.

The next hour went by in a flurry. Arthur told about the last years, starting with the events around the first year of Harry and Ron. He told about the dangerous forest and the lack of real protection against adventurous students going there. There was the story about the detention in the forest with Hagrid. As he started to speak about the forbidden third floor and the room with Fluffy, Dumbles wanted to stop him. "Some things are not meant for the publicity to know."

"This is nonsense," Amelia Bones interjected. "Lady Longbottom, dear Governors: I've spoken with Mister Weasley about his statement beforehand and he'll tell you enough about it, without dishing out any sensitive information."

Augusta nodded like she hadn't known it before. "You may continue, Mister Weasley."

And so he did. He told about the room with 'some magical artifact in it', described it as 'of utmost interest' for some persons of darker motivations. "It is completely incomprehensible, that the Headmaster hid this artifact in Hogwarts of all places. The Ministry or Gringotts would have been far better caches. To tell the students about it and even arouse their interest, can hardly be called only reckless anymore. No magical lock, no age line, no ward to alarm someone in case of tempering – it seems to have been the intent of the Headmaster to have some students enter that part of the castle and battle the protections." He glared at the Headmaster: "Was it a test, Albus? A test for Harry Potter? A test that caused my son to spend a week in the Hospital Wing?"

Albus didn't answer.

.

_He's omitting details_, Harry pondered.

Arthur had continued with the events of Harry's second year, but there was no Lucius Malfoy in his story – _perhaps because we can't prove his part_ – and the book didn't belong to Tom Riddle. It simply was 'a dark artifact of unknown source, containing a kind of Imperio Curse' to force the reader to open the Chamber of Secrets.

"It is incomprehensible how nobody realized this danger. The wards of the school didn't react? No teacher noticed the moody behavior of my daughter? Nobody recognized the reason of the petrification? He really had to wait for some teenagers to solve this riddle? I can't belief that. Despite my low opinion about Headmaster Dumbledore's behavior, I share the Board's high opinion about his abilities. He simply had to know about this. So why didn't he react? Was it another test? Had he an interest in causing havoc, confusion and fear?"

"Headmaster, where is this book now," Augusta demanded to know.

"It has been destroyed."

"Completely? As far as I heard, it had only been stabbed. According to Miss Weasley it was still recognizable after the events in the chamber and Mister Potter gave the book into your hands."

"Yes," Dumbledore paddled back. "I meant the magic had been destroyed. The pure object still exists."

"I demand you to put it into the hands of the DMLE," Amelia Bones interjected from the sideline.

"I'll look for it after this meeting," Dumbledore smiled sweetly.

Amelia glared at him. _He'll find an excuse later_, Harry realized. _But why does he want to keep it_?

"I think we all could use a break, Lady Longbottom," Harry drawled to everybody's surprise. "Perhaps the Headmaster could use the spare time to fetch the book. I could identify it after the break, so there won't be a misunderstanding about it."

_He hates me now,_ Harry grinned. _Good old boy, I like this. You have no idea how much I want to cause you pain for what you did_.

"That's a wonderful idea, Mister Potter. We'll do a break of 15 minutes. Headmaster Dumbledore, I expect to find this diary on my place at my return."

.

After the break and the presentation of the book – with Dumbles' face a mask of stone – Arthur shortly spoke about Harry's third year. Luckily Hermione knew about his statement, else she certainly would have reacted, when Arthur started about the 'dangerous beast Buckbeak'.

Harry grinned, as he thought about Dumbles not being able to explain Buckbeak's flight without telling everyone about his own part in the matter. "I understand the wish to show our children a proud and interesting beast like a hippogriff. I even support the idea of them being a part of the curriculum. But I demand more security measure to prevent further injuries."

Harry rolled his eyes when Lucius Malfoy nodded in support. _Was this alliance really worth it_?

"And then there was the part of Sirius Black attacking my son twice on the grounds of Hogwarts. I understand that there are doubts about his guilt in the crimes he is accused of. But nonetheless he was a searched criminal and apparently the Headmaster was unable to prevent those attacks."

Harry didn't like this part of the complaint, but he had to admit that there still was the principle: Security of the students. And Sirius had been dangerous in his state of mind – not that he had been to blame for this.

"A last point about that year: Professor Remus Lupin. I want to state openly and firmly, that I have no problems with Professor Lupin. I trust him with the life of my children and regard him a friend. But still, as a parent I have to demand, that the Headmaster informs the Board about the identity and nature of his professors beforehand. He has to allow the Board – in place of all parents – to examine every professor and judge his qualification and aptitude. It is inacceptable that he hid these details from you."

.

_The band begins to play_, Harry thought, when Arthur started to speak about the current year.

"My daughter's mood was declining over the course of the last term. There was pressure from all sides, pressure to force her into a relationship with Harry Potter. It was against my wishes. It should have been clear, that there was no chance for my daughter to win his heart. Look over there." He pointed towards Harry and Daphne. Both blushed and pressed their intertwined hands even more as hundreds of eye pairs rested on them.

"Simply look at them and tell me, that you're unable to see the love between these teenagers." Smiles, nods and more than one sigh could be seen and heard, what only caused their blushes to intensify. "We don't know if it will last. As every love there will be doubts, there will be fights, there will be tears. But we have to give them a chance and not willingly trying to separate them. Lies, traps, forcing my daughter near him – that's all so wrong, even more for someone like the Headmaster. Despite my wishes he continued to make his plots, continued to shove my distraught daughter onto Mister Potter.

"Two months ago, shortly before Valentine's Day and the second task of the tournament, there had been some serious incidents. Someone" he glared at Dumbledore "not only used lies but also potions and compulsion spells in his attempt to separate Miss Greengrass and Mister Potter."

Dumbledore tried to intervene, but nobody listened. Everyone knew about the rumors, everyone had read the story in the Quibbler: The interview of Harry, the apology of Viktor.

"It should have been the first of hopefully many happy Valentine Days for this young couple, but someone destroyed this. Luckily they were able to overcome these schemes and are together again. House Weasley wishes you both all luck for your future." He bowed slightly and Harry shortly stood up to reciprocate.

Arthur's voice got very dour now. "Before this plot my daughter seriously hoped, that there would be a chance to regain Harry's friendship. There had already been a sprain in their relationship, partially because of a temper tantrum of my daughter she really regrets today. But then she had to realize that there was no escape. My wife – I have sorrowfully to admit – and the Headmaster continued in their plans and even planted my daughter as Harry's hostage in the second task and Miss Greengrass as the hostage of Viktor Krum. It was a clear attempt to pair them up against their wishes.

"A Headmaster," Arthur boomed "has no place in the relationships of his students. He has no right to hassle with them.

Arthur slumped down, leaning heavily on his table. Bill whispered to his father and Arthur nodded. After a while he returned to an upright posture, his voice now very gloomy. "My daughter saw no chance to escape these manipulations anymore: Her mother at home, the Headmaster at school with the might to influence her life there from every angle. There was no escape – only one. One month ago my daughter tried to commit suicide."

For a while there was only shocked silence. It was one thing to read about this, but something completely else to hear it from the father of the girl.

"It was a real, serious attempt, not some cry for help. She wanted to die, wanted to end all this. Without Miss Greengrass," Arthur stopped and sobbed. "I'd lost my daughter without her. I can never repay this, Miss Greengrass."

Daphne smiled and nodded weakly; she appeared to be very pale and shaken.

"Mister Weasley," Augusta interjected with a surprising soft voice. "We all feel with you. How is your daughter today?"

"Thank you, Lady Longbottom. My daughter – physically and magically she is healthy again. Emotionally she's still a mess. She's staying at home. We'll decide in the summer if she'll return to school. At the moment she's home-schooled – by the way: With the help of Professor Lupin. I only say this to add proof that I'm not against werewolves, but only against secrets."

His statement apparently didn't endear him to Um-bitch. Augusta nodded and gestured him to continue.

"The letters my daughter received from Harry and his friends helped her very much. She has some hope again and perhaps one day she'll be able to forget or at least live with the memory."

"She's our friend, Arthur." Harry's clear voice disturbed the silence. We don't blame her for what happened and offer our hand in friendship. And should this meeting not go as hoped, we'll take her with us to Toledo. She'll not be alone."

.

_**One hour later**_

.

"The three-headed dog has never been a danger to any student. He acted only as a deterrent."

Dumbledore smiled sweetly, his eyes twinkling – the whole 'well-meaning grandfather' package. Someone gagged, earning Daphne a reprimanding glare from her grandmother and a smirk from Augusta. Turning to Dumbledore she fetched some papers from the table.

"Like Mister Weasley already stated: It is a bit unsettling that someone with your experience in the rearing of teenagers – and especially with Gryffindors and their very special mindset" Harry hadn't to turn around to connect the snigger with Professor Snape "was unable to foresee, that the hint about a danger on the third floor would dare more than one student to try his luck. We have several testimonies from students – mostly Gryffindors but from other houses too – who tried to investigate that part of the castle. No ageline, no alarming ward, no magical lock – a simple Alomohora was enough to get into the room with this … animal. A Cerberus is certainly not harmless. It is a well-trained watch-dog and without some knowledge about its weaknesses nearly impossible to circumvent. No, Headmaster Dumbledore, to our regret we share Mister Weasley's opinion that you intended to use this as a test for the inventiveness of some of our students."

.

"I have to admit, that I made some errors two years ago. I didn't handle the events around the Chamber of Secrets very well. Perhaps I simply trusted the abilities of our renowned DADA teacher, Professor Lockhardt, too much. I should have stepped in earlier."

Harry sensed, that Dumbles' attempt to shift the responsibility on Lockhardt's shoulders, had been the wrong move. Nobody aside from a few persons knew about the former Professor's lack of talent and character. Too many spectators still adored him and that he had to spend these months in St. Mungo's – officially a result of his battle against the basilisk – had only strengthened his reputation.

"Yes, you should have. That you needed the help of some students to find the source of the problems is lamentable, as was your lack of eagerness to ask the DMLE for help in the matter. By the way I personally regret your lack of delicacy of feeling in handling Mister Potter and the unfounded accusations against him at that time. 'Slytherin's heir', really? As a member of House Malfoy I would feel offended. You showed again that you aren't really in control of your school, your students and especially your teachers."

For a moment she looked chidingly in Snape's direction, before she continued: "By the way I have a question about the events of that year from Mrs. Granger." Everyone stared in her direction and Harry's face softened as he watched his Aunt pressing Emma Granger's hand reassuringly.

"Why didn't you inform her about the condition of her daughter? Didn't you deem it worthy because Miss Granger is a Muggleborn?" This caused a storm of protest from the spectators. Even some of the pureblood mothers joined in. Not to tell a mother about something like this was disgusting. "And why did you need so long to cure the victims of the Basilisk? Some of them had been petrified for weeks."

"Miss Granger's origin had never an influence on how I handled her or her parents. I only didn't want to frighten them. We knew how to heal the victims. For cost reasons we wanted to use our own Mandrakes for the potions. Luckily …"

"Bullshit."

"Mister Longbottom." Augusta glared at her grandson and there weren't many in the Hall who wanted to change places with Neville at this moment. But Neville ignored her, he was simply too agitated.

"Go, Tiger," Harry whispered and received a light slap from Daphne.

"Yes, we used our own Mandrakes and certainly this diminished the costs substantially. But really … you're counting Knuts and allow your students to stay petrified for days, weeks and even months?"

"Mister Longbottom, you have to understand …" Dumbledore sententious voice was interrupted by Neville again.

"I have to understand, that your students aren't important enough to help them immediately. I have to understand, that your reputation was more important than to tell their parents what happened. 140 Galleons – that would have been the price."

Neville fetched a vial from his pocket. "I needed two days to find someone willing to send me this. Three days he needed to prepare it. And that was without the help of someone like Madam Sprout or Professor Snape and their connections. Yes, you saved a hundred galleons through the use of our own resources. But do you really assume that a mother wouldn't be willing to spend this amount of money on her child to save her the unimaginable agony to lay there for weeks – rigid, helpless, to hear all but unable to do anything? And even if a mother hadn't the money to pay for this, wouldn't the Board of Governors be willing to spend the money? No, it was only your reputation you had in mind and the students had to suffer."

Neville was breathing heavily now. Harry smiled, Daphne nodded proudly and Hermione tried to calm him. "I'm sorry about my outburst, Grandma. I'm sure we'll speak about it later … at home." Some laughter could be heard. The face of his grandma showed far too much pride about his honest rage to fear any real punishment. "But I really can't endure more of this nonsense from this careless, meddling, old coot."

Neville had left his seat and Harry was a bit concerned now. With a low voice he snarled: "I didn't forget what you did to me, old bastard. You'll pay for it." Under the gasps of the spectators he threw the vial towards the Headmaster and hit him at the forehead. Harry grabbed the arm of his trembling friend.

"I think we all need a little break," Augusta's voice thundered through the hall. "After that we'll speak about the last school year."

.

"The Board of Governors was shocked to hear about the events of the last year," Augusta Longbottom explained after the break. "The security breaches through Sirius Black, the injury of a student through a hippogriff in a lesson – regardless of his own fault in the matter" she added with a stern look "and the hiring of Professor Lupin without informing us about his condition, had been more than a bit unsettling. You knew quite well, that – despite of Mister Weasley's opinion about Professor Lupin, an opinion I personally share – too many parents would have qualms about this choice. It is irrespective how reasonable these fears are in times of Wolfsbane potion: You simply have to honor the wishes of the parents and will of this Board."

She looked around, her eyes resting at last on Professor Lupin. "I regard Professor Lupin as my friend. I hired him to work in my library, where he did a wonderful job." Harry smiled shortly: _Throw in a bit of free advertising._

"I spend last Christmas with him and I wish him only the best. But right now I would have to deny him a post at Hogwarts. It's not about our wishes, Headmaster, it's about our students and their families. If you want to hire him, use your political cloud and change the laws, change the public opinion. It would be time for it. But don't act so secretive."

Dumbledore bowed slightly, according to his expression convinced that this matter was finished now. _You have no idea_, Harry sniggered.

"We could assume that this was a one-off issue. But apparently there is more about it, a kind of pattern. The Board wants to hear about a similar matter that took place a decade ago."

Dumbledore paled visibly when Augusta called Professor Snape.

.

"Professor Lupin and I … we hated each other. I think you could say it as simply as that. But it had nothing to do with his condition. It was about his behavior as a student and his lack of taste in choosing his friends."

_He likes this_, Harry grinned.

"Please tell us about the events in your fifth year."

"You have to remember that back then there was no Wolfsbane potion. A Werewolf had to lock himself away to protect others. Professor Lupin had been a student in my year. His condition was known only to the teachers and Madam Pomfrey. Headmaster Dumbledore tried to hide it and offered him a hideout on the grounds of Hogwarts. Naturally his regular disappearances and his bad condition in the days following a full moon were suspicious."

Snape glanced towards Hermione. "I remember a third year student last year, who was able to recognize Professor Lupin's condition within three months despite the Wolfsbane. In his time some students knew about it too. One night, an alleged friend of Professor Lupin, lured me into his hideout."

The spectators gasped, ignoring Dumbledore's attempt to downplay the issue.

"Luckily another friend, a real friend of his," shortly he glanced towards Harry now "learned about this and just in time rescued me. Without him I would have been bitten, perhaps killed."

"What had been the consequences of this incident?"

"More or less: None."

"What? Please explain."

"I was in the Hospital Wing for a few days, unhurt but badly shaken. The Headmaster visited me, told me about the detention the culprit got for his deed. He was unwilling to do more. The welfare of Professor Lupin and his 'friend' was more important than justice. 'It was only a prank', he told me."

"Why didn't you tell someone about this?" Amelia Bones interjected. "You would have been in your right to accuse that 'friend' of attempted murder."

"Headmaster Dumbledore forbade me to tell anybody. He even threated me to use a memory charm on me, shouldn't I comply."

"That's nonsense, I would never …"

"Shut up." A fuming Remus Lupin interrupted Dumbledore. "You did. Severus, tell them about the apology … you old slimy bat."

Some spectators sniggered. Snape glared at him but nodded after a moment: "A few days later, after he recovered from the full moon, Professor Lupin visited me."

_Take this, bastard_. Harry grinned, as he watched Dumbledore going deathly pale. _You hadn't expected him to remember, did you?_

"He apologized for the incident and I accepted."

Augusta left it to Lucius Malfoy to ask this time: "That was honorable, but what was so special about the apology?"

"Special about it was the fact, that I didn't remember it for more than a decade. Only a month ago an incident disclosed, that someone had messed with my memories, changed some small but important facts."

"Why should someone do this to you?"

"To influence me," Snape responded: "To influence my behavior, to let me hate Professor Lupin even more. Someone" He glared at Dumbledore "messed with my mind to better hold control about me."

"These are substantial allegations, Professor Snape."

"It's my founded opinion," Snape answered calmly. "I have been teacher at Hogwarts for more than a decade. Despite contrary rumors I loved my work – at least the potion master work and teaching a few less clumsy minds each year. Spreading fear among the other dunderheads wasn't bad, either."

_Only Snape_, Harry grinned_, could speak about this part of his personality so openly_.

"I would have stayed at Hogwarts for a long time. But with this incident I changed my mind. I can't prove my allegations, Lady Longbottom, but I don't have to work for a Headmaster I don't trust. After this year I'll take my leave."

.

_**A/N**_

_The next chapter will be about the second day of the meeting, especially the testimonies of some teachers._

_A reminder about Toledo: Harry spoke about it because the Magic School of Toledo – thanks to his Aunt Ana Hernandez – offered them places to continue their education._

_I want to change several things at Hogwarts. But because most of them will only be important after the summer break, I'll only hint at them now. You'll see more of them in the sequel. But feel free to write about your ideas especially regarding new courses, changed content of the old, teachers and leadership (Deputy and Houses only, the new Headmaster is already fixed). _


	43. Chapter 43 End of an Era (Part 2)

_**A/N**_

_Thank you for your ideas and tips about the school. Some of them confirmed, what I already intended to do, some of them will be stored away for later use (please remember that Sirius is still a wanted criminal)._

_About __**Petunia**__: Potions was the one subject I've seen in too many stories associated with her. Because of this I wanted to use something else. _

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**End of an Era (Part 2)**

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_Pinegrew Manor – Daphne's Bedroom – 19th of April – Wednesday Morning_

.

"Good morning, honey."

Slowly Daphne turned around and frowned at her boyfriend with a small smile lessening the impact. "What's with you and these silly nicknames? Thinking about eating too much? Turning into a Weasley slowly?"

_At least she's smiling_, Harry relaxed. Without answering her directly he sat down at her side and gently pushed some strands of hair out of her face. "My aunt gave me a few things yesterday evening, things that belonged to my mother: Some books, her wand, some pictures, a bit of jewelry."

Daphne sat up, leaned against the back of her bed and nodded, listening intensely now. "That was nice of her. So … you two are better now?"

"A bit," Harry sighed. "I mean: It's not like she's my favorite aunt now – that's still Ana – but we're really trying to get away from the former hate and disgust. Perhaps we have a chance. Surprisingly Dudley is far better in leaving all that behind and being a real mate."

"I think being away from his father is helping him the most."

Harry nodded. "I spoke with them about Vernon and they … they want to stay here for a while. Petunia is thinking about a divorce. She doesn't like the impact Vernon had on Dudley. And our conversation yesterday reminded her of her former dreams – dreams Vernon forbade her to continue. But it's too early for a decision. She'll need more time."

Daphne leaned forward and hugged him. "I'm happy for you."

Harry gulped and gently freed himself. "There is something else. Among mum's things there were her rings." He glanced nervously at her. "I know it is too early for …" he faltered.

Daphne put her hand on his. "Go on, I don't bite. It's too early for biting."

Harry smiled at her. "You're a silly one." He sighed again. "I want to show you and everybody that I mean it serious with you being my girlfriend and all." Slowly he presented her a little box and opened it. Within was a simple platinum ring with a small diamond, nothing too ostentatious or impractical at the school. "It's a promise ring, Daphne. Would you accept him?"

The answer was an embrace and the sweetest kiss. "Yes."

.

_**Same time – Breakfast Room**_

.

"It's going well," Roxanne stated. "With the testimonies we'll hear today it should be enough to sack the old fool."

"But he'll still be out there, trying to play his games. And he'll be out for blood after this. We'll have to be careful." Agatha took a sip from her tea with a hint of whiskey. Despite the early time she needed it for this day.

"Shouldn't we try to go for a trial against him? Not only sacking him as a Headmaster but getting rid of him for real?"

"That won't be possible," Ana interjected, shaking her head sadly. "He's far too precious for your society. His political cloud is too wide-spread, too many people own him their voice. With every other man it would be possible and the witnesses would be enough, but not with him. But the most important point is his position as the chairman of the ICW. A conviction in a trial would mean a loss of this position too. Britain would lose this very important position. Even among our allies there will be some unwilling to pay this price."

Roxanne nodded sadly. Ana was right, she knew. The International Conference of Wizards – while not a real government – had much influence worldwide and Dumbledore's position as its chairman had been one of the reasons of Great Britain's reputation.

"And he had been the one to defeat Grindelwald. Far too many people would forgive him everything for this deed. No, I fear the best we can achieve for now is to separate him from Hogwarts."

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 19th of April – Wednesday Midmorning_

.

With a contented smile Harry watched the scenery. Minerva and the other teachers were sitting together, their faces showing their annoyance quite clearly. Since the end of the yesterday meeting Albus had tried to get into contact with them, something he apparently continued this morning. That none of them was willing to speak with him – to 'adjust their statements' – only caused him to intensify his attempts. In the end Flitwick had put a silencio on the Headmaster and walked away.

Now the second day of the meeting had started. Dumbledore had mumbled something about 'helping the Weasleys'. "They always had been friends of mine and staunch supporters of the light. In the war against Voldemort" a shudder went through the audience as he had obviously intended "they sacrificed so much. I saw it as my duty to help them. Molly Weasley wanted to engage her daughter to Mister Potter, a pairing I can only support personality-wise and regarding their standing on the side of the light."

"Blah … light … blah … greater good … blah."

Harry's voice wasn't as low as intended. He blushed when he realized this. Dozens of people were staring at him, many of them sniggering. Daphne elbowed him; Hermione gave him a slap on the back of his head.

"Mmm, sorry. Please go on, great light-master of giddiness … I mean goodness." Harry's grin threatened to split his face as he noticed Dumbledore's shocked frown. The Headmaster needed a while to get back his composure and to continue without stuttering.

"I only spoke to her. I wanted to convince her and had the feeling that she needed a bit of self-confidence. Miss Weasley believed that she wasn't worth to be Mister Potter's fiancée."

"And so you decided she wasn't worth to have her own opinion." This time there was no humor in Harry's voice. That nobody interrupted him and not even Augusta stopped his outbreak showed how much Dumbledore had lost in reputation and standing.

"My boy, that's not what I …"

"I'm not your boy. And that's exactly what you did. You influenced her, you frightened her, and you charmed her and left her no other escape. Do you really not see what you did? Are you really so stupid, stubborn and careless, that you're unable to comprehend that you nearly killed her with your meddling? She nearly died, you old bloody moron. Without the intervention of Daphne and the Weasley twins you would face accusation because of manslaughter and not this meeting."

Dumbledore looked very pale now, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on the land. Harry allowed Daphne to pull him down on his seat again. "I hope you'll burn in hell for what you did."

.

"Madam Pomfrey, please tell us what you know about the events of the 12th of March."

Poppy nodded towards Augusta and started to speak. Her words came slowly, the sadness of the experience clear to everyone. To watch someone die without being able to help must have been terrible for the Nurse.

"On the afternoon of the 12th of March I was working in the Hospital Wing. There weren't any other patients to care for, so I had time for cleaning and preparation work. Suddenly one of the house-elves apparated into the Hospital Wing with Miss Greengrass and Mister George Weasley, who was carrying his sister. While Mister Weasley put his sister on a bed, Miss Greengrass sent the house-elf to fetch Miss Granger and Mister Fred Weasley."

"A clear breach of the regulations of Hogwarts," Dumbledore interrupted. "Only the headmaster is allowed …"

"Albus shut up," Poppy stopped him, her voice more than annoyed. "Please leave it to the Ministry to complain about regulations in a life-and-death situation." This raised a wave of laughter in the Hall, even some of the Ministry officials dared to smile. "Slowly I understand why some people fear that you're getting senile."

Shaking her head she turned towards the Board of Governors and continued: "Without the help of the house-elf Ginny Weasley would have been dead before my arrival."

"If I may mention it," Minerva interrupted. "Ciddy, the mentioned house-elf, received a letter of thanks from Miss Weasley in the meantime. It is wall-hung in the kitchen now and the pride of Ciddy."

Poppy smiled shortly before she got serious again. "The condition of Miss Weasley was very dire. She had used a kind of contaminated sleeping draught. The effect was too strong for her magical core and it had already stopped to fight the effect. She was magically dead and my spells and potions didn't work anymore."

Murmurs and sobs could be heard from everywhere, making Dumbledore's comment only the more stupid. "It was a cry for help from Miss Weasley, obviously."

Totally flabbergasted Poppy stared at him. "You dimwitted, deaf dunderhead: What about 'magically dead' is too difficult to grasp for you? Dead, you know, DEAD. No cry for help, no lukewarm attempt – that girl saw none other choice than too kill herself, and she nearly succeeded." Poppy left her seat, her voice rising. "I couldn't help her. With her core dead no healing spells would work and no potion." Menacingly she stepped nearer. "Do you have an idea how I felt to watch her, to tell her brothers that I couldn't rescue her? It would have been your duty to protect the girl and not to force her to do this."

"Poppy, I really never intended to …"

"For you, Mister Dumbledore, I'm Madam Pomfrey from now on. And I'm sure we all know what you intended. You're lucky that I don't want to touch you; else I would show you what my fist is able to do with your nose. But I fear your dumbness could be contagious."

In stunned silence about her outbreak Poppy went back to her place.

"Luckily I had only to fight a breeding mother dragon in my first task and not her," Harry whispered, again not too quiet. This earned him more than one agreeing nod.

"I told the Weasley twins that my magic was unable to help their sister. In that moment Miss Greengrass offered to cast a very special spell: Sanguis Familiae. She had already used it before to help her sister recover from a nasty spell. It links the magical cores of family members with each other. Theoretically it would be able to restart Miss Weasley's magical core. If successful my own healing spells and potions would be able to work on her again."

"As I understand," Lucius Malfoy drawled "this spell is very dangerous to the caster."

"It is. Miss Greengrass explained to the twins that they risked damaging their own cores in the process. What she didn't tell them was the fact that the same counted for her threefold."

Harry glared at Daphne. He had assumed something like that, but until now Daphne had avoided to answer him corresponding questions.

"And you allowed this spell?"

"No, I didn't." Poppy shook her head sadly. "I feared that Miss Greengrass was too inexperienced and I had never used the spell myself. It is too exotic and its use too rare. I tried to stop her. Luckily Miss Granger trusted Miss Greengrass enough to stun me."

Laughter, blinking eyes and stares were the answer to this statement as Dumbledore's assessment: "She should be expelled for …"

That he stopped to distribute his nonsense was only to the fact that Filius cast another Silencio on him. "Sorry, Lady Longbottom, but I would really like to hear Poppy's statement without this … sound of the sea … in the background."

"We'll allow Headmaster Dumbledore to comment this at a later time. Please continue."

"After that Miss Greengrass prepared and cast the spell. The twins had been willing to take the risk but luckily it succeeded. Not only did Miss Weasley's core start to work again, but there was no damage to the participants. It was a wonder."

.

Poppy had spoken about the recovery time and healing prospects for a while, but now it was time for something different.

"We heard something about Headmaster Dumbledore's general behavior," Augusta started slowly "and about the suicide attempt itself. But still we're missing an important link. I would like to hear someone, who hopefully will be able to enlighten us. Please take a seat Miss Ana Hernandez."

Ana left her place. When she passed Harry, he whispered: "Auntie? Don't forget: No prisoners." She grinned shortly and took her seat.

"I don't see any connection between this woman and this meeting," Dumbledore drawled.

_He has no idea what's coming onto him_, Harry grinned. _Do I see a few beads of sweat on your forehead, old man_?

"I'm Ana Katharina Hernandez," Ana started after a gesture of Augusta. "Through marriage I'm related to House Pinegrew. Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass call me 'Aunt Ana' and I've been the one to teach Daphne the Sanguis Familiae spell." The last part wasn't completely true because she had only gifted the book to Daphne, but near enough.

"And what do you want to speak about?"

"In the last three months it had been my duty to examine my niece and her friends for any signs of influencing magic."

_Eat this, bastard_. Harry smirked, noticing that Dumbledore nearly fainted. Hastily he tried to stop her statement: "How can we believe anything she says? She's a foreigner and as a relative of the Pinegrews not really unbiased."

Ana raised her left hand and dispelled the disillusion spell that had formerly hidden the heavy signet ring on her middle finger. "I'm speaking today as Capitan Ana Katharina Hernandez, member of the Muggle Security Department of the Spanish Ministry – something like a special subgroup of your Aurors. I'm Consejero – magical consultant – of Cardinal Marcelo, Archbishop of Toledo. What I speak is true. To doubt my words means to insult my country. Do you wish to doubt my words, Headmaster?"

"I knew it," Harry grinned, but Daphne watched Ana totally mesmerized. Her Aunt stood there, from tip to toe a Spanish Grandessa, unwilling to take shit from Dumbledore and ready to challenge him to a duel.

Slowly Dumbledore shook his head – to Harry's regret: "No, I believe you."

"Pity!"

"Now with this question resolved, please tell us about your examinations."

And this she did. "You have to know that the Church of Spain knows much more about magic than her British counterpart. There is much paranoia among the higher echelons, fear that someone could magically influence them. Because of this it is my duty to examine them regularly for charms and similar ways of influence. I did the same on at least four opportunities with Mister Potter and his friends. Because of this I have a good idea what had been done to them and when."

Augusta nodded and gestured her to continue. Dumbledore made the impression of someone trying to hide below his seat.

"In the three weeks before the second task someone used quite a number of spells on them. This 'someone' tried to hide his activity through casting them low powered or using area spells instead of personal ones. Among the used spells was a broad range of compulsion spells to promote strife between them. To prevent Mister Potter's friends from realizing his change of behavior, this someone used Confundus Spells on Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom. In addition I found traces of Compulsion Spells on Miss Ginny Weasley and Mister Viktor Krum. All spells carried the same magical signature."

"Do you know this signature?"

"To my regret I do not." Dumbledore had to struggle hard to avoid taking a deep breath. "Obviously it was the work of a very knowledgeable wizard. Without my intense experience I would have overlooked the hints."

"And you're really sure about this? Someone used Compulsion and Confundus spells on six different students, apparently to mess with their relationships and general behavior?"

"I'm sure, Lady Longbottom, especially after consulting another Charms master about the matter: Professor Filius Flitwick."

The paleness and beads of sweat returned on Albus' face. The broad smile on Augusta's face was unmissable. Since she had been told about Neville's magical misalignment, she had been royally pissed with Albus. She would never be able to proof his guilt. This was at least a little revenge.

"I would like to hear Professor Flitwick about this," Lucius Malfoy drawled, his pleasure even more visible than on Augusta's face. "But before this I have another question. Miss Hernandez, as far as I know you also examined Mrs. Petunia Dursley, Mister Potter's Muggle Aunt."

"Yes, I did. But please ask her about it. It concerns her and her family. I told her everything regarding magic in her case, but I would like to leave it to her to decide if and what she wants to reveal."

"Mrs. Dursley, are you willing to testify this afternoon?" Augusta asked.

Petunia glanced at Harry, insecure what to do. "It's your decision, Auntie. You don't have to."

She looked around, only marginally noticing Emma Granger attempt to reassure her. Then her eyes came to a rest on Headmaster Dumbledore. Her insecure face changed into a grim mask. "I would dearly like to testimony, Lady Longbottom."

.

"I'm Filius Flitwick. I've been teacher for Charms and Head of House Ravenclaw for several decades now. I hold a Master Degree in Charms."

"Very well, Professor Flitwick," Lucius Malfoy sniffled obviously not impressed by the petite professor and his partial goblin status. "Can you tell us more about the spells that had been used on Mister Potter and his friends?"

"Yes, Lord Malfoy. On February the 25th, circa an hour after the end of the second task, Lady Pinegrew informed the Headmaster, that she wishes to spend the rest of the weekend with Mister Potter and his friends. She invited me to join them. I agreed. There I met Miss Hernandez, who told me about her suspicion about charms being used on the four teenagers. I examined them and the result was that indeed someone had used a broad range of Compulsion and Confundus spells to influence their behavior."

"Where you able to detect who had cast those spells?" Malfoy asked, maliciously grinning in Dumbledore's direction.

"I have to interpose that signature reading is a very uncertain skill and not allowed in court," Dumbledore started, but was immediately stopped by Augusta:

"This is not a court, Headmaster. This is the meeting of the Board of Governors. Professor Flitwick, in your best knowledge and belief: Who had been the one to cast those spells?"

Filius sighed deeply. He looked around, his eyes resting for a while on Harry and his friends. Slowly he began: "I have been at Hogwarts for a long time now, a marvelous time. For the last decade I hoped to die here, to someday my body being carried out of one of my lessons. But then this happened. I can't stay here anymore with you around, Albus, I'm sorry old friend." He addressed Augusta and the other governors again. "In my opinion there is no doubt that those spells were cast by Headmaster Albus Dumbledore himself."

.

"How could you, Filius?"

Harry turned around to watch the conversation between Professor Flitwick and a 'very sad and very disappointed' Headmaster Dumbledore. Augusta had ordered a small lunch break and everyone had been leaving their places to fetch some juice and sandwiches the elves had prepared at the back of the Great Hall. Now many people turned around and listened.

"We have always been friends. I had never expected you to betray me like this." Dumbledore shook his head very sadly. "That you were willing to believe the lies of these Pinegrews … you really should have seen through their deceit."

Slowly Harry's humorous side slipped away and he felt his anger rising. _How dare he?_ He growled.

"To quote a famous colleague, Albus: You're a pompous dunderhead. Nobody betrayed you other than you yourself. Somewhere along the line you forgot for what you were fighting. You stopped to care for others, stopped to see them as humans with emotions and own thoughts. To use memory charms and compulsion spells on them … really? How could you? Yes, we have been friends. But you changed this. You changed, Albus. I can't allow you to continue with this. You have to leave Hogwarts, Albus. It's for the greater good."

.

After the break Harry escorted a slightly trembling Petunia Dursley to the witness' chair. She smiled weakly but thankfully for his support and took a seat. Nestling with her handbag she waited for the questions, trying to concentrate on the people in front of her and to ignore the audience.

"I know," Agatha Pinegrew began "that this place is very strange and frightening for you, Mrs. Dursley. Please try to forget where you are. This is only a simple hall and you're speaking with the governors of a simple school regarding its headmaster."

"Okay," Petunia nodded with a weak smile, but a bit more relaxed now.

"You're here because we wanted to know something about you and your life with your nephew Harry Potter. As you know there has been an article in the Quibbler about it. I assume that everyone read this article …" She looked around and got a nod from every governor. "To shorten this: Do you agree with the article? Has there been something wrong or had the description of Harry Potter's life in your home been correct?"

Petunia glanced towards Harry. She knew that he was uneasy to hear about those years and wanted his consent before she answered. "It's alright, Auntie. Please answer."

"Yes, Lady Pinegrew," she agreed a bit meekly "the article has been correct."

Agatha had to enforce silence in the audience before Petunia was able to continue.

"His life hasn't been easy. Certainly it was very unlike to what your people expected." She fetched a small booklet from her handbag: "The childhood and youth of Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived. A very nice book and I assume it describes how you hoped his life would be. But unfortunately it is very wrong. Harry experienced a lot of pain in my household. Not physically, be assured. But every parent, every teacher knows that emotional pain can be even worse. He got no love from us, no compassion for his loss. We told him horror stories about his parents and called him a freak. Never did we accept him as a member of our family. Harry was more like a servant in our house. We told everyone that he is the worthless son of two drunkards, barely tolerable."

"Silence," Agatha hissed when murmur erupted again. "And how did you explain that he was away most of the time the last three years?"

"We told our neighbors that we sent him away to the 'St. Brutus Correction Facility for Problem Children'."

This time Agatha had to use a small thunder spell to enforce silence.

"Now we know how Harry lived. I understand that you hadn't contact with the magical world in this time. Is this correct?"

"Mostly, yes."

Agatha blinked. This was new even to her. "Please explain."

"We didn't like magic. No, let us be correct: We hated magic. The reasons had been explained in the article. The most important were my feelings about losing my beloved sister first to magic and later to this wizard-maniac – a maniac who had already killed my family and whose sole reasoning was his hatred for people like me. So we tried hard to forget magic and reacted very poorly to every incident of accidental magic around Harry. A very few times someone tried to visit him, but we sent him away – according to our wishes and according to our agreement with Headmaster Dumbledore."

"So Headmaster Dumbledore knew about all this?"

"Dear Governors, we should really stop this nonsense. It is quite evident that someone messed with the mind of this poor lady. To listen to this babbling is ridiculous."

Harry wanted to jump up but was stopped by the hand of his Aunt. She shook her head before she – very calmly – left her seat and went to Headmaster Dumbledore.

"Headmaster Dumbledore …"

Harry blinked. He had never heard his aunt like this, very sweet and very falsely purring. This was so unlike her that he had to look twice.

"Yes, my dear?"

"You're right about the messing with my mind part." For a moment a smile was visible on his face, before it contorted into a grimace. Harry couldn't believe it. Petunia, nice, well-bred Aunt Petunia just kneed Dumbledork into his balls. Without allowing him a second to react she grabbed his head by his ears and slammed her forehead into his face, breaking his nose.

Dumbledore staggered back a few steps before he went down in a heap. The audience stared, unbelieving what just happened. Filled with rage Albus reached for his wand, only to be the target of half a dozen Expelliarmus spells. Augusta was the fastest, with Filius, Harry and all three Pinegrew ladies close behind.

With an unnatural calmness Petunia gestured Daphne to step forward and at Harry's side. "Your wand, Harry, please give him to Daphne."

"Why?"

"Simply do it, Harry." Her tone was serious enough and so he followed the command.

"To answer your question, Lady Pinegrew, and Headmaster Dumbledore's comment as well: Yes, he knew. He visited us once a year to renew the contract, to give us a small amount of money and to prove Harry that the authorities wouldn't help him in case he tried to call the police or some officials. The money we regretfully never used on Harry, but according to our agreement it wasn't even meant for him. The Headmaster paid us 'for our troubles'."

Harry stared at her: Money given to her but not for using it on him? Dumbledore had been in their house? He couldn't remember to have seen him before Hogwarts.

"How should the Headmaster's visits prevent Harry from calling for help?"

"It did, because he visited us in the disguise of the social worker, who was responsible for Harry. It wasn't a very good disguise, but it was only to deceive a child, not us, so it was well enough."

Agatha paled. Now it became clear why Petunia hadn't spoken about this before. Now she knew why Dumbledore tried to stop her and why Petunia had asked for Harry's wand. With a cry of pure rage Harry raced towards Dumbledore and tackled him to the ground, pounding him with his fists. It needed Tonks and three other Aurors to separate them. The Headmaster was visibly shaken by the outburst. The audience was grinning. It had been obvious to them that Tonks and her colleagues had needed a bit too long to decide that an intervention was in order. But Amelia Bones' expression showed all too clearly that she would have waited a bit longer even.

"This has to stop now," Augusta Longbottom thundered. "I understand the outburst of emotions. But we should try to behave from now on. I won't accept such a behavior again, not even from you, Harry."

"I understand, Lady Longbottom. I'm not sorry, but I understand." Daphne hugged him and rubbed his back. No word of scolding was uttered from her.

Without much compassion everyone watched as Madam Pomfrey cared for Dumbledore's wounds. Perhaps she cast the Episkey on his nose with a tad too much energy, but who would blame her?

"Mrs. Dursley, you told us about Harry's life at your home. And you spoke about the reasons why you hated magic. Were these the reasons you treated him so poorly?"

"In a way, yes," Petunia agreed. "You have to understand that I'm still not comfortable around magic, I lost simply too much to it – with you being more like a foreign nation or even a foreign race to me. Perhaps this will never change, despite Harry's best attempts. You know, he even gave me a very interesting book of Lily's school time about Arithmancy."

Some groans erupted from the audience and even a few governors winced. To answer Petunia's questioning look, Agatha explained: "Arithmancy is an extremely complicated and not very well-liked subject. Most of us tried to avoid it at school and even I – despite absolving it with an E – struggle to forget it."

"But why?" Petunia asked flabbergasted. "It is fascinating. There was this one chapter about Euler. He was a mathematician of the 18th century. 'Euler's number' is the basis of many very important functions in my world. And apparently it had its uses in yours too."

She continued to speak about the importance of Euler's Number in the formulas for portkeys and apparition. The number of groans increased ten-fold. Professor Vektor smiled: _A kindred spirit_. Daphne and Hermione grinned, their grins intensifying as they noticed Harry pounding his head on the table in front of him. Finally Agatha felt enough pity to stop Petunia.

"Err … right. As I wanted to explain: Yes, in a way magic was the reason. But normally I wouldn't have followed these emotions. You know: Harry is family. You don't treat family like that. You may hate family members, you may be disgusted to even think about them, but you never treat them like this. There isn't enough family around to do this. A young daughter getting pregnant, your son being in conflict with the law or even a nephew 'infected' with magic – or in case of a magical family a Squib: You don't leave them behind, you just don't."

Never before had Harry felt so proud to have Petunia for his Aunt. And he really hoped that some of those pureblood parents around him thought about these words in the future before disowning their rebellious child.

"But regretfully another part in the Quibbler article was correct too, the part about someone influencing me. Last week I got a visit from Harry and Professor Snape."

Dumbledore's head whirled around. Accusingly he stared at Snape who reciprocated with a smirk.

"They wanted to speak with me about Harry's parents. In the course of the afternoon something happened. I got a horrific headache and blood dripped from my nose. As I learned later from Miss Hernandez and Professor Flitwick these were results of a seal breaking, that had closed off a number of my memories before. They were memories about my sister, especially about some meeting between us shortly before her death. Until then I had always blamed my sister for our parents' death, but in one of those meetings we became reconciled."

Petunia put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I shouldn't have hated Harry like that. I should have known that I still loved my sister when I found him at my doorstep. But I had no chance to be the Aunt he deserved."

"Were these memory charms the only influence on you?"

"No." Petunia stepped forward at the table of the governors and put her music box on it. Harry grimaced, watching intensely the reaction of the Headmaster. Dumbledore was pale again, trembling. _He knows that he has lost_, Harry recognized.

"This is a music box I long thought to be heirloom from my mother. I never allowed anyone to touch it and even now – broken – I would never toss it away. Only last week I learned that it never belonged to my mother. Professor Flitwick examined the music box and found some spells on it. It enhances some emotions, negative ones, around it and dampens others like love and friendship. Not only is it to blame for a large part of Harry's childhood but it also disrupted my family."

"Do you know who cast those memory spells or the spells on this music box?"

"As a Muggle I can't examine this myself. But according to Professor Flitwick both were done by Headmaster Dumbledore."

.

"Before we call it quits for today," Augusta addressed the audience "we would like to hear a last witness. Tomorrow Headmaster Dumbledore will have a last opportunity to state his thoughts about the mentioned events before the Board of Governors will decide about Mister Weasley's complaint. But now: Please take a seat, Professor McGonagall."

Petunia, Daphne and Harry had returned to their places again and struggled hard to calm down. Emma returned the favor from before and did her best to soothe Petunia's mind. _It can't be easy to admit to have been an ass for more than a decade_, Harry mused. _Even harder should it be to speak about this kind of mental rape_. He was still uncertain about his future relationship with Petunia and Dursley, but he intended to give it a try at least. They deserved it.

"I'm Minerva McGonagall, Professor for Transfiguration, Head of House Gryffindor and Deputy Headmistress. Ginny Weasley is one of my students, as are Mister Potter, Miss Granger and Mister Longbottom."

"Professor McGonagall, how would you describe the Headmaster, especially his behavior towards the students?"

"He cares for them and wants to protect them. He really does. But … sometimes he is unable to see, that he could be wrong. You have to admit that the Headmaster is a very special man and has been for a very long time. More or less since the forties everyone praised him, everyone sought his advice, and everyone listened to his opinions. This can certainly get to your head. In earlier times he listened to us. We were not only his friends but his advisors too. He – as our mentor – was always the senior but still he listened. But this stopped somewhere around the last war.

"Since then Albus was convinced that only he knows what is best. He decided and we had to follow. Who didn't want to comply was against him. This was the reason he was against Agatha – I mean Lady Pinegrew. She criticized Albus, so she had to be dark. Her daughter stayed on her mother's side, so she had to be dark too. He even forced me to stop the apprenticeship I had offered her. I complied, something I dearly regret today.

"Everything about Harry Potter belonged into the same 'I know it better' category. He decided – against the wishes of Harry's parents and against our advice – to give him into the Dursleys' care. He decided that Harry – and Neville – had to be Gryffindors like their parents. He decided …"

"STOP." Neville jumped up, reacting faster than the still stunned Harry. "Professor, what do you mean 'he decided to put us into Gryffindor'? It's the hat who decides, isn't it?"

"Minerva," Dumbledore started only to be interrupted by a fuming Augusta, her wand in her hand, her knuckles white: "ALBUS, shut up. It wasn't enough that you messed with Neville's core, you also had to mess with his sorting?"

Dumbledore was completely white now. Amelia Bones' icy voice broke through the deathly silence: "One after the other. Lady Longbottom, what do you mean with messing with his core?"

Augusta hissed: "Someone – you know: SOMEONE – messed with his core, misaligned it some years ago. We were only able to correct this a few months ago."

The silence was stunning. Every pureblood knew what an affront such a spell was. To mess with the magic of a family heir was a major criminal act and could easily lead to a walk into the veil.

"Since then," Minerva added with a low voice "Mister Longbottom changed from a very mediocre student into one who belongs to the upper third overall. His performance is still rising and we expect him to belong to the best ten OWL students next year."

"We can't prove who this someone was, but we all knew the culprit. Don't we, Albus? But now back to the other question: How did he mess with the sorting, Minerva?"

"The Headmaster is able to influence the Sorting Hat. It isn't normally done and only thought as a security measure to protect children from abuse. We can't prove it now – only the next Headmaster could – but he spoke a bit too often and a bit too enthusiastically about Harry and Neville being in the same houses their parents were. And while Harry could be a Gryffindor, he has quite a few attributes that should put him into another house. About Neville: He may be brave – he proved it right in his first year – but I assume that nobody doubts that someone with this amount of loyalty and diligence is nothing else than the epitome of a badger." Neville Longbottom smiled, Madam Sprout beamed, and nobody contradicted her.

A still fuming Augusta fetched Agatha's handbag and withdraw a silvery flask. With a smile Agatha watched her friend taking a gulp of her finest Ogden's Whiskey.

"Whiskey at this hour, Augusta?" Amelia mock scolded her.

"It's this or blasting him out of his office." Her glaring eyes left no doubt who 'he' was.

"I'm still against the Whiskey," Amelia answered drily.

.

"Please continue, Minerva."

"The whole time Albus influenced Harry's life, from allowing him to be part of the Quidditch team in his first year till letting him being a part of the tournament."

"Do you mean that he influenced the Goblet too?"

"I don't know. I really don't know. I think he would be capable of doing this. But I meant something else. In the Champions' chamber, immediately after the choosing, Mister Potter expressed his wish not to be a part of the tournament. He considered Mister Diggory as Hogwarts' Champion and himself too young and inexperienced. He bade Headmaster Dumbledore to let him go. The Headmaster denied his wish. After the first task Miss Granger visited me and asked me about any possibilities to get him out of the tournament. She had searched for something but had been unsuccessful because the corresponding books belonged to the restricted part of the library. I used the winter break to search for some way to help her, but regretfully it is not possible. I told you so, Miss Granger."

Hermione nodded sadly.

"But what I didn't tell you: The Headmaster had the opportunity back then. Immediately after the choosing, within 24 hours, he could have used his power as the hosting Headmaster to revoke the complete choice. Obviously he decided against it."

"Are you certain, that the Headmaster knew about this?"

"Yes, I asked him. He answered with his usual sentence: It's for the greater good."

.

A short time later the examination of Minerva was finished. Just as she wanted to leave, Augusta stopped her for a last question. Augusta's face was very thoughtful, her mind troubled with ideas about her old friend Minerva and how she was feeling now – surely blaming herself for all that happened, a feeling that was not completely unfounded.

"Professor – we heard from Professor Snape and Professor Flitwick that they intend to leave Hogwarts should we decide in favor of Headmaster Dumbledore. Would this also be your intention?"

Rapt attention everywhere – a third Professor leaving Hogwarts, worse even a third Head of a House would be catastrophic. So it caused some sighs of relief when Minerva shook her head.

"I can't do this. I let them down far too often in the past. I can't continue with that, I can't leave my cubs in his clutches anymore."

Amelia Bones coughed slightly. "What exactly do you mean by this, Professor? What exactly do you intend to do?"

Dumbledore shook his head slightly. Apparently he at least had an idea what Minerva was speaking about. But she didn't shy back, not now anymore.

"There is an old regulation, very old, going back the Wizarding wars of the 13th Century. A Deputy Headmaster or Head of a House is allowed to challenge the Headmaster for the right to become the new Headmaster." She turned her set look to Amelia. "To answer your question: Should this Board decide against Mister Weasley's complaint and pro Headmaster Dumbledore, then I'll challenge Albus Dumbledore to a Wizard Duel."

"You know that your chances are slim at best?"

"I do. But it is my duty to protect my students. A duty I'll betray never again."

.

_Hogwarts – Great Hall – 20th of April – Thursday Midmorning_

.

The press of people was even greater this morning. Many parents had one of their children sitting on their lap and hundreds of officials, journalists and other curious people were lining at the walls. There were even members of foreign Ministries – mostly European – a handful of Goblins and a single Centaur listening.

Everyone was hoping for a great show. Everyone was bound to be disappointed:

Headmaster Dumbledore's chair was empty.

With a grave expression Augusta Longbottom stood up, a letter in her hands. She coughed several times to silence the audience. "This morning I received a letter from Headmaster Dumbledore."

.

_**Dear Lady Longbottom, Dear Governors, Dear Students of Hogwarts,**_

_**More than fifty years I have been part of Hogwarts, first as a teacher, than as the Head of House Gryffindor and Deputy Headmaster, last as the Headmaster. This all not counting seven happy and wonderful years as a student myself in a past long forgotten.**_

_**All this time I struggled to do my best to protect the inhabitants of Hogwarts, to further knowledge and work on a better future. It is very hard for me to look back now and realize that I spent too much time thinking and not enough with speaking and explaining. Perhaps I erred with some of my ideas and plans, but certainly I should have done more to integrate others into my plans. **_

_**I still hope that I did more good than bad in these years, but I accept that my past behavior would stand against a trustful cooperation in the future. Hogwarts can't lose three of its most experienced teachers in the same moment or a large number of its most promising students.**_

_**So, with a sad heart, I see no other choice than to retire from my office as Headmaster of Hogwarts. Whoever will be chosen to be my successor: I wish you luck, not too many sleepless nights and a fulfilling time. And should you ever need the advice of an old man: I'm only a Floo call away.**_

_**Sincerely**_

_**Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore**_

.

"This is so sad," Harry sniffed. "I'll miss him dearly."

This earned him some sniggers, a number of glares and a slap from Daphne. "Try to behave," she growled.

"Now," Augusta addressed the audience after the break "we have two things to do. First we have to officially retire the old Headmaster and then we have to choose a new one."

The official retirement went very fast and without much fanfare. Roxanne had explained to the teenagers, that this had to be done for the magic of Castle Hogwarts to acknowledge the turn of events. "And it's better so in case Albus tries a stunt like 'I was never retired officially, I only was in kind of vacation' in a few months."

A bit of surprise was certainly that the Board of Governors requested an official investigation of the behavior of Headmaster Dumbledore from the DMLE. Amelia Bones promised to comply with this request, but her expression showed that she shared the opinion of the Pinegrews: There wasn't enough proof for a trial, at least not in a case against THE DUMBLEDORE.

After that it was Augusta's turn again. "Normally it would be easy. Professor McGonagall has been Deputy Headmistress for decades and done most of the administration work in the past, undertaking many of the Headmaster's duties because of Professor Dumbledore's other political duties. But I know that Professor McGonagall isn't interested in the Headmaster's office and quite frankly: She was right about her doing many errors in the past decade. Minerva, you're my friend, one of my oldest and best, but as Chief Governor I have to reprimand you for your past behavior. The Board decided that you may stay Deputy Headmistress, but you're on probation until the end of the next school year."

"I understand and I agree," Minerva bowed slightly.

"This leaves us in a difficult situation. Who should be the next Headmaster?"

"Hem hem."

A voice croaked, stunning everyone. The toad-lady in the silly cardigan hadn't uttered a single word the whole time. Some spectators had wondered if she was even able to speak.

"Yes, Miss Umbridge? Has the Ministry an opinion on the matter?" Augusta's voice showed clearly that she wasn't really interested in anything stemming from the Ministry.

Miss Umbridge stood up – not much of a difference in height – and addressed the audience with a silly smile and an equally silly good-motherly tone. "The Ministry believes that it is time for a change. After decades of Dumbledore's …"

"Professor Dumbledore" Quite a number of voices corrected her, Hermione being the loudest one. She may be disgusted by his behavior, but he was still Albus Dumbledore and way above such a racist woman.

"Yes, yes: Professor Dumbledore's influence, it is time for something steadier. Far too long we allowed the school to drift away from approved methods, allowed weird teachers and untested ways to get hold of our students."

"You still didn't propose a candidate for the office of Headmaster, Miss Umbridge," Augusta interrupted her.

"Oh, didn't I? Silly me." Her laughter was false as was her smile. "The Ministry proposes for the office of the new Headmaster of Hogwarts … me."

With a broad smile she looked around like expecting thundering applause for her idiotic idea. To her surprise the first reaction was a deep, rumbling laugh … from nobody else than Professor Snape. "Idiotic. I thought we were speaking about serious suggestions. At least a minimum of academic knowledge should certainly be part of the job description. If I remember correctly, you were barely able to pass your OWLs and your NEWT was horrific. Without your family the Ministry wouldn't have offered you even a job in the registry."

The reaction of the other teachers and even a few governors proved Snape to be right about this and the smiles and giggles from all sides caused Miss Umbridge to turn unnaturally red in her face.

"Better than a former Death-Eater, don't you think so," Umbridge shot back.

Into the following silence Amelia Bones responded: "This question was already settled in the past. Professor Snape is no more to blame for his deeds in the war than the honorable Lord Malfoy."

Some coughs showed that this compliment was a bit two-edged, but both Snape and Malfoy seemed to be content for the moment.

"But to answer with a serious suggestion," Snape continued "there are other House Heads at Hogwarts with more than enough experience to handle the job – especially if Minerva is willing to help in the beginning. Something she'll certainly be."

Umbridge stared at him, then at the other House Heads. She grimaced. "I don't know. Madam Sprout is certainly a wonderful teacher and quite able to fill the position of Deputy Headmistress, but certainly she needs more experience in administration to do the Headmaster's job."

"I agree," Professor Snape bowed slightly. "This I had in mind too. But I meant Professor Flitwick should be our new Headmaster."

"You can't be serious." Umbridge bellowed. "He's a …"

"He's what?" A grumpy voice asked from the audience. Turning towards them everyone saw the Goblins parting ways as an old, gnarled goblin woman stepped forward. She leaned heavily on her staff and limped a bit. Small, bald, her body resembled a barrel, but her eyes were easily able to pierce holes into Umbridge's head.

"Who are you?" Umbridge asked, earning a number of groans.

In contrary to Umbridge's impolite behavior, Augusta crossed her arms in front of her chest and bowed slightly. "Mistress Ironsides, we're honored to have Gringotts' Chief Accountant and famous Curse Breaker among us."

If nothing else, then the mentioning of her position did much to prompt quite some deference from the wizards around. Who wanted to be on the bad side of Gringotts most important accountant?

"It has been far too long, Augusta." The smile of the old goblin showed crooked teeth and a number of gaps but seemed serious enough. "But to address Professor Snape's proposal: The bank of Gringotts supports this suggestion. We heard about some of the changes that are planned at Hogwarts: New subjects, additional teachers, and a modernization of the old courses. This all will cost quite a lot of money.

"But Gringotts has always been interested in changes. We hope that a modernization of subjects like History of Magic will be part of your plans. Also we would support the idea of a new subject similar to 'Care of magical Creatures' but regarding knowledge about other races like Centaurs, Giants, Mermaids and Goblins. To show our seriousness about this support, Gringotts offers to absorb the costs for such a teacher and participate in the maintenance costs with a yearly contribution of 10,000 Galleons. But only" the old lady concluded "if you chose a Headmaster who doesn't stand for racism."

Her steely look showed clearly that she was speaking about Umbridge and her followers. The Werewolves hadn't been her only victims and it was only a question of time until she targeted the Goblins.

"You can't buy our decision," Umbridge croaked and a few governors nodded slightly.

"This is not about buying a decision," Harry's voice disrupted the conversation.

"Why am I not surprised that Mister Potter has an opinion about this?" Snape drawled.

"Because you're an intelligent man and a real butterfly on this wonderful morning, Professor," Harry grinned.

"You should be happy that I'm still stunned because of the delusions of grandeur of some attendants," Snape snapped back "to respond to this ridiculous comment."

Harry bowed slightly and smirked. "But to address the matter: We have to choose a new Headmaster. Perhaps he'll be in the office only for a few years until we find someone else." This was an idea that apparently pleased some of the more traditional governors. "Perhaps he'll be here quite as long as Professor Dumbledore. But in any case his choice will set a sign. What sign do we want to give the world? And please don't assume that this is a pure British decision." He pointed towards the foreign spectators.

"Professor Snape observed that a minimum of academic knowledge should be part of the job description. I agree full-heartedly. But there is another point. Professor Dumbledore was a man of tradition. There wasn't much of a change in Hogwarts for decades. We still have a terrible History of Magic subject, something that already tortured my grandma." Everyone nodded.

"Muggle Lore is decades behind reality and many other changes that are overdue have been forgotten for far too long. Look at my friend Hermione Granger." Hermione blushed deeply when hundreds of faces turned towards her. "She is – I think even Professor Snape will agree with this – the most promising student at Hogwarts since generations. But still she has one weakness, something that even her magical guardian disturbed until Lady Longbottom started to work on it: As a Muggleborn she knows nothing about the Wizarding.

"But why is this so? Why has she to learn this by doing? Why has she to find someone to teach her the basics out of school? There should be a subject at Hogwarts to integrate Muggleborn and Muggle-raised like me. This is only one of many changes that should be addressed by a new Headmaster.

"And besides the scholastic alterations that are needed, there is the point of cooperation. Yes, we could choose some bigot racist, someone who tries to separate in a medieval manner, someone who likes to invent new laws to suppress Werewolves, Centaurs and other races. Or we could set a sign and tell everyone: This isn't our way. This isn't what we believe in. We want to understand, we want to know. We want to offer everyone a chance who is willing to live with us in peace.

"Dear Governors: I beg you to set a sign. Show everyone that we're looking into the future and not back. That we want to leave the time of you-know-who behind us and start to live our own lives, a life together without prejudices and with an open mind. I beg you to choose Professor Flitwick as our new Headmaster."

.

"Very nice speech, Mister Potter, it was very inspiring."

"Thank you very much, Miss Granger. I learned from the best."


	44. Chapter 44 A new Headmaster

_**A/N**_

_The next __**two chapters**__ will describe some smaller scenes in the weeks between Easter and the Exams. After that it will be time to undergo the third task and finish the first part of this story._

_About __**Dumbledore**__ again: I still think that it wouldn't be easy to press charges against him. Think about it: The ICW is something like the wizard UNO. Great Britain supplies the Chairman for this organization. It's extremely prestigious for the man and the country. Should Dumbledore be put into Azkaban or something similar, Britain would lose this position, a very dire price for any politician._

_Then there are many people, I assume, who simply agree with Dumbledore: HE KNOWS THE BEST. Simple, isn't it? The 'Great Albus' and all – what's the opinion of a few children against that? And if they aren't willing to see reason, it's for the Greater Good to 'convince' them … you see my meaning._

_And last: He is THE HERO. He defeated Grindelwald and with this deed he saved thousands and ten thousands of lives. I simply expect that many many people wouldn't agree to put him into prison irrespective of what crimes he performed. _

_Please don't forget: The most important witness is Flitwick, a partial-goblin, discrediting him in the eyes of many wizards. _

_Veritaserum/Legilimency? Simply wouldn't help against Dumbledore because of his Occlumency experience._

_And a last reason: Do you really want to read a whole sequel without Dumbdork in it?_

.

**A new Headmaster**

.

_Dumbledore Manor – 21__st__ of April – Friday Lunch Time_

.

_Should I have forced the issue?_ Albus wondered. _Did I cave in too hastily?_

The last days certainly belonged to his worst since a long time. Far too many friends had parted ways with him; far too many allies had turned their backs on him. He was quite certain that there wouldn't be a criminal prosecution, but still his reputation was in shambles now.

_I never expected Malfoy to ally himself with Augusta_. Albus sadly shook his head. _Perhaps I should have explained my decision about her grandson to her. No, she wouldn't understand. She's far too stubborn, her family too important to her. _

With too much force he put his tea cup down, breaking it in the process. Angrily he stared at the broken cup. His old house-elf had cleaned it with the rest of the house only yesterday. He hadn't been at Dumbledore Manor for quite some time. It was neither a grand nor a very important or rich looking house. His family had been old but never among the money-grabbers like the Malfoys or Parkinsons. This had been the reason, that he needed the Potter money to fund the war. Since the Potter-boy had taken control of his heritance, he had been in trouble to finance the Order. Too many of its members belonged to the poorer wizards around. Not that there were many members still. Nearly half of them had left in the past weeks, some only last evening.

_I've lost their trust_, Albus pondered. _The Pinegrew-bitches showed me in the worst light possible and they believed them. How could they? I had always been their leader, the focal point in the war against darkness. And now they speak about me like a criminal. _

Minerva – he could have resisted and forced the duel she wanted. He would have won, there was no doubt. But then, what had happened then? To kill or seriously harm his former friend would have been the last nail to his coffin. His very last allies would have left him, all aside from a handful like Moody. _Yes, Moody, my friend_, Albus allowed himself a very small smile. _He's still out there, watching Harry. He's my last link to Hogwarts after everyone else betrayed me._

It was still unimaginable that Severus had betrayed him too. Flitwick, yes – he was partial-goblin and not really trustworthy. But Severus? _I should have checked my memory charms more often_, Albus groaned. It was a negligence that now cost him dearly.

_What now_, Albus pondered_. What shall I do now_?

.

_**Somewhere**_

.

He smiled broadly. The news had been the finest for some time. Albus, good old Albus, wasn't Headmaster anymore.

_You still have it in you, Lucius_, he grinned. _Perhaps I should allow you to serve me again in the future – after my rising from the grave; and after an appropriate punishment for your betrayal_. The red eyes glowed with anger. Too many of his servants had betrayed him, had tried to avoid persecution with lies about being imperioused. He couldn't allow this. But Lucius had his uses, especially with his money and his connections to the Ministry.

And then there was the case of the Potter-boy. Only a few weeks he had to wait until his most-trusted servant would offer him the boy like a Christmas present. All was prepared, the day of his rising determined. If all went well, he wouldn't need Lucius to grab the boy. But if something went wrong, if somehow Potter's luck kicked in again, Lucius would be useful again.

_I hope your reasons to get near to him are trustworthy, Lucius. I hope it for you._

.

_**Hogwarts**_

.

Albus' defeat would complicate the matters. He would have to be especially careful on the day of the third task. And it would be better to change the plan slightly. With Albus he could have been certain that nobody checked the Goblet for traps – or port key magic – before the task. But now Filius Flitwick was responsible and he would be more careful.

_And less trustful of me than Albus had been_, he mused.

But still it would happen. I had to happen. Any other result was unthinkable.

_He will return in all his glory. And then it will be time to crush them all. _

.

_**Pinegrew Manor – Same Time **_

.

"I'm so happy about our new Headmaster," Daphne beamed. The day before Agatha had returned to Pinegrew Manor latish, but with a broad smile. The decision had been a narrow one, with only five governors in favor of the petite charms professor. But it had been enough.

Cyrus Greengrass snorted, but didn't comment. It was for the first time since months that all family members were sitting together again. Astoria nibbled on a piece of radish, sitting at her sister's side and looking happier than for a long time. "He's away." She grinned. "Dumbdork is away and nobody will mess with my sister's mind anymore; or with yours, Harry – not that there would be much of a mind to mess with anyway." Her grin broadened and with a quick move she evaded the piece of potato that Harry launched at her in response.

"Yes, it is a comforting development," Cyrus agreed, ignoring the childish behavior. "I feel better now, with Harry being secure again at Hogwarts."

Harry exchanged a puzzled look with Roxanne only to get a small shake of her head and a mouthed 'later'. Cyrus had been behaving this weird for days, trying hard to befriend him. He even was polite around Hermione and only the slightest grimace showed how much he had to struggle.

"Lucius abstained from voting," Agatha explained. "I was a bit hurt that the three votes against Filius came from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Even Mrs. Zabini voted in Filius favor."

"Lucius isn't happy about the choice," Cyrus agreed. "But it was the most important point for him to get rid of Albus. And the only competitor – let's just say that nobody wants her at Hogwarts."

'Her', that was Um-bitch as Harry knew. According to Agatha she had been fuming when the decision had been published, nearly getting an apoplexy about it. _If only_, he smirked_, it would make some things easier for the other races._

"He'll be Headmaster for a five-year-term at least. After that there will be a new election."

"I'm certain he'll win again," Hermione hoped. Neville and she had come to Pinegrew Manor to spend a few days here before they returned to Hogwarts.

"We'll see," Cyrus ominously answered.

"And Minerva will stay Deputy Headmistress?" It was still a bit weird for Agatha to hear Hermione call her favorite teacher by her given name. The tension between teacher and student had started to evaporate after Minerva's changing behavior and view about Dumbledore. That she really intended to challenge him to a duel to protect her cubs had done much to impress her students.

"Only for a while," Agatha responded. "In the long run she wants to pass her office to Madam Sprout. In the next year she'll help Filius with his work. After that she'll start to introduce Pomona and slowly lay down her appointment as Deputy Headmistress. In a few years we have to decide if we'll follow her suggestion and set the Deputy apart from the Heads of Houses. Minerva explained to us, that the deputy has to be impartial and that it had been difficult for her because of her other duties."

"So sometimes in the future there will be a Headmaster, a Deputy and four House Heads – six and not only five leaders?"

"That's the idea."

"Naturally it will be a question of money too," Cyrus interjected. "There have been many ideas for changes at the meeting: Some of them more intended for later times, some of them short-range. All of them need money to fund them."

"Yes," Agatha agreed. "One of the more pressing matters will be to gather more money. Gringotts offer will be a good start but we still need more. One of the ideas was to sell potions and charmed articles. Not many, not to start a large business, but at least earn a bit of spare money."

"Has Professor Snape time for something like that?"

"He'll have," Cyrus answered. "He'll be the first teacher to gain from one of the few changes the board has already agreed upon."

"There will be Junior Teachers," Agatha continued. "Perhaps you already know that there isn't a real 'teachers' program' in Magical Britain. We want to change this. The idea is that these Junior Teachers will learn how to teach and train the lower classes. They should be able to compensate for the Main Teacher in cases of sickness and similar absence. The Main Teacher is still responsible, but will mostly train the upper classes and additional courses for outstanding pupils."

"So Professor Snape will be the first one with a junior teacher? I assume he'll be happy to get rid of us," Harry grinned.

"I'm not too unhappy too," Neville groaned. Hermione elbowed him, but only slightly.

"Is there even someone worthy enough?" Daphne asked.

"That's one of the reasons he'll be the first teacher to follow through with this idea. Apparently he already spoke with someone. Lucius was happy to agree with the whole suggestion after he heard that Severus would the first beneficiary. And everyone else agreed with his choice after we heard the name: Penelope Clearwater."

"Penelope?" Harry asked. "Wasn't she Percy Weasley's girlfriend?"

"Yes, and Head girl last year," Roxanne nodded. "I met her a few times and arranged a meeting with Severus a few months ago. Apparently last autumn she had a break up with Mister Weasley after he got 'very important'. And the work at the Ministry obviously hadn't been as fulfilling as hoped."

"Without connections or ass-kissing you'll only get paper-pusher jobs at the Ministry," Cyrus surprisingly stated. "You may like it or not but that's reality."

Hermione frowned at that. She had hoped to work there later, perhaps in the DMLE or in the Magical Creature Regulation Department. Neville seemed to feel her uneasiness and hugged her. "Grandma will help you, I'm sure."

"I don't want to …"

"Hermione," Neville stopped her. "No favoritism – it's only to give you a chance. What you'll achieve will be your merit."

Hermione looked at him and, after a while, nodded weakly.

"Yes, Lady Longbottom's help should be a favorable factor," Cyrus agreed, looking thoughtfully at the Muggleborn. "And then there is your connection to Mrs. Bones. But first you should finish your school. I heard many good things about your achievements, Miss Granger. And apparently you're rubbing off on Harry too."

"We're all getting better, Lord Greengrass," Harry answered, staring at the weird behaving patriarch. "Working together, learning together – it's teamwork for all of us." _Did he really think that it was Hermione and not Daphne that had been the deciding factor in Harry's change? Or was he only trying to be nice again? It seemed too much like an act. He wasn't much of an actor_, Harry decided.

"Yes, you're right. Teamwork is important. But please call me Cyrus. After all we're family."

His broad smile was even more false, but for the moment Harry complied: "Cyrus, then."

.

"Sorry to tell you this, Astoria, but your father is very weird at the moment," Harry confessed.

Cyrus had left after the meal and they we're now in the winter garden for a cup of tea. The others agreed, but it was Astoria who solved the riddle.

"You should be careful around him, Harry. We have orders – orders from Lucius."

"Orders? What do you mean?"

"Father, Draco and I – Lucius demanded that we behave nicer towards you and your friends. He wants us to …" she blushed and looked down.

"Yes?"

Astoria sighed. "He wants us to further your relation to Daphne."

Everyone stared. Daphne looked especially quizzical at her younger sister. "What does he have in mind – shoving Harry into my room when I'm changing clothes?"

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. It was hard enough to watch Daphne training in her gym suit. He had no wish to surprise her in panties and bra – at least not yet.

Astoria shrugged and grinned slyly. "I don't know, perhaps. At least Lucius and Cyrus dream about an engagement party for the two of you right after your fifteenth birthday, sis."

_That would be in four months only, one month after Harry's fifteenth birthday_, Daphne pondered. Astoria had just turned thirteen a month ago, so her own official engagement with Draco was still two years away.

"And he didn't tell you why he had this change of mind?" Roxanne asked her daughter sternly.

"Sorry, mum." She shrugged.

"It's okay," Daphne hugged her little sister. "Thank you for the warning."

"It's alright," Astoria grinned. "Someone has to look out for you, especially with those friends of yours."

Hermione mock growled a bit.

Astoria sniggered. "Ladies don't growl, Miss Granger. I really should speak with Lady Longbottom about improving your behavior."

Hermione lightly punched Astoria's shoulder only to get her hand fetched and shown to everyone. There was a broad golden ring on it with runes carved into the metal. "So Neville followed Harry's example, I see."

Both teenagers turned Weasley-red and earned quite some gasps from everyone.

"Hermione Jean Granger," Harry growled. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"She only got the ring this morning," Neville explained. "I had the ring for a while already, but wasn't brave enough to ask her. After you shot ahead yesterday, I decided it was really time to be a Gryff."

Harry slapped him on the shoulder: "Good for you." Then he turned to Hermione and hugged her heartily: "And good for you too, Hermione."

.

"When do you intend to tell them?" Agatha asked.

The teenagers had left too and only Agatha and Roxanne remained.

"I was thinking perhaps … not at all." She grinned. "So they'll learn with the rest on Sunday evening when Filius announces the changes."

"You're evil, you know that, daughter?"

"It's my mother's fault entirely."

.

_**Hogwarts – Great Hall – 23**__**rd**__** of April – Sunday Dinner Time**_

.

The students had returned to Hogwarts at the afternoon and now they waited for their new Headmaster to deliver his little speech. The Hall was brimming with rumors about the Governor meeting and what would happen now. And who were these two ladies sitting at the teachers' table?

At last the petite professor positioned himself on his chair and addressed the audience. "Dear students. Much happened since you left two weeks ago, things that will have an influence on your life at Hogwarts. The Board of Governors had a meeting last week and decided about a number of subjects they want to modernize at Hogwarts. Some changes will take years to happen; a few will take hold after the summer break and a few will already start this week.

"This summer you'll get a preparation list unlike the ones you're used to. They will only be about the obligatory subjects like Charms, DADA and Potions. After the summer break Hogwarts will offer an open day. On that day your parents will be allowed to visit the school."

Murmurs erupted everywhere and Filius needed some time to calm them down again.

"On that day we'll speak about new subjects we'll offer then, changes in the known subjects – especially Magical History, Muggle Lore and Sports – and other changes. After that you'll have a chance to determine which subjects you want to take. Flourish and Blotts offered to open a little shop at Hogwarts for that day, so you'll be able to buy the needed books then. This all isn't finally decided. We'll still need to think about many details, but overall we hope that Hogwarts will be a better school, offering more in learning and fun to you."

He allowed the students some minutes to discuss this news before he silenced them and continued.

"You already know that Headmaster Dumbledore retired last week. I don't want to speak about details. There had been difference in opinion about how a headmaster should behave towards his students and how much influence he should have on their life. These differences were dire enough that they didn't allow a further cooperation between him and the four Heads of your Houses. To end the quarrel and allow Hogwarts to calm down again, Headmaster Dumbledore decided to leave. I beg you to honor his decision and hold him in your memory as a man who fought for decades to protect you from all harm.

"Now about a few changes that will start this week already: The Board of Governors decided, that they'll allow us to have junior teachers at Hogwarts in the future. These junior teachers will learn how to teach and slowly take over the duty to teach the younger classes, while the main teacher is still responsible for the whole subject, teaching the higher classes and offer additional training for outstanding pupils.

"Not all posts will be filled now, but we'll make a start with Potions. Please welcome Miss Clearwater, the new Potions Junior Teacher."

How much Professor Snape liked the idea of getting rid of the junior classes showed in his behavior now. Not even the deafening cheers from three houses caused him to lose his smile, a very weird sight for everyone who knew him.

"As Headmaster I can't further be Head of House Ravenclaw anymore. I hope my 'Claws will do me honor and be as wonderful in the future as they have been in the past to their new Head: Professor Aurora Sinistra."

The cheering wasn't nearly as deafening as before, but Professor Sinistra was well-liked enough, especially among the 'Claws. Filius didn't expect many problems and perhaps a 'mother-figure' would be a nice change after decades of a male head.

"And last there will be a new Charms Teacher too. I'll continue to teach the NEWT classes for a while, but the years up to OWL will be taught by …"

He pointed towards the second lady, who now stood up and dispelled her glamour.

"Roxanne Pinegrew."

'Did you know', a frantic Astoria mouthed to her older sister.

'No idea', Daphne mouthed back, unable to suppress a giggle.

A few tables away Neville was hugged by a slightly crazy Hermione "yes, yes, yes."

Harry's grin nearly split his face, especially when he remembered how Filius had introduced her: Pinegrew. Did dear Cyrus know about this little detail?

Professor Roxanne Pinegrew – it sounded really nice, Harry had to admit.

.

"You could have told us, Mum." Daphne growled a bit. Her mother had collected her daughters, Harry, Neville and Hermione after the Dinner. Filius and the other teachers had left earlier than usual to allow their students to speak freely about the changes.

"I wanted to see your faces," Roxanne grinned.

"You're evil, Mother," Harry mock scolded her.

"Grandma told me the same already."

"I'm so happy to have you here," Hermione was still slightly crazy with giddiness. "Not that I dislike Professor Flitwick," she added hastily.

"It's okay, Hermione," Roxanne calmed her.

"Why do you teach only up to OWL classes? Isn't that like a junior teacher?"

"Yes, you're right. But I still need to make my Master in Charms for NEWT classes. And I'll have to decide if I really want this for more than a few years. You know that I originally intended to be a healer."

"I don't know how you would be as a healer," Hermione said thoughtfully. "But I already saw you as a teacher and I think you'll be wonderful."

"Thank you," Roxanne smiled. "I hope you'll still have this opinion after the next weeks. By the way I have a request. We plan to design a pamphlet about Hogwarts, thought especially for the families of Muggleborn. You know: With pictures, a few facts, how to reach us in emergencies, how to prepare for school, something like that. Would you please write your parents, what they think would be helpful in such a pamphlet? And please ask other Muggleborns too. We want to publish the first edition this summer already."

"I'll do that."

.

"Sorry about the hour, but we" Filius pointed towards the four House Heads who were likewise present "decided it would be better to speak about this matter before the school starts again. As you all know, Headmaster Dumbledore used his influence on the Sorting Hat to alter his choice about you."

It was difficult for Harry to concentrate on Filius while Ron glared at him like this. Their relation hadn't improved over the break and apparently he somehow blamed Harry alone for Dumbledore's retirement and the problems of his family. They were seven teenagers in all, sitting around a chair with the Sorting Hat resting on it: Harry, Daphne and her sister Astoria, Neville, Hermione, Ron and Draco.

"Apart from Miss Granger every one of you has been sorted according to Headmaster Dumbledore's wishes, irrespective of your own faculties."

"That explains," Daphne smirked "how the Weasel landed in Gryffindor."

"Yeah," Draco added, being the first to understand Daphne's intention. "He's dumb enough for a Gryff but I always thought a minimum of bravery would be another requirement."

"Good for him, that Headmaster Dumbledore messed with the hat," Daphne continued, her smirk even broader. "Without that he would have landed in Hufflepuff certainly."

"I'm not a Hufflepuff, you bitch," Ron roared.

"Yeah, you're a mighty Gryff, Weasel," Draco laughed. "Dream on."

"I'll prove it." Before anyone could react he stepped forward, sat down in the middle and put the hat on his head.

"Mister Weasley, you should understand …" Professor McGonagall tried to stop him, but it was too late. Within seconds the hat came to a conclusion: "Slytherin!"

Ron paled. "That can't be. The hat is broken." He put the hat down and stared at it, like he was searching for signs of destruction on it.

"I'm sorry, Mister Weasley, but apparently Slytherin it is for you."

"No," he whined. "Turn it back. I want to be Gryffindor."

"It's too late for that. As I wanted to explain," Filius continued after a glare towards a very happy Daphne "you have to decide: Do you want to stay at your house or do you want to try a new sorting. If you agree to a new sorting, it will be final."

"It's your fault," he yelled at Daphne.

"You're welcome," she grinned back. "Have fun among us snakes."

She watched him depart, slamming the door behind him, before she addressed Madam Sprout. "I'm sorry, Madam Sprout, because of my remark about your house. It was only to enrage Weasel-boy and doesn't match my opinion. I really like Hufflepuff and still hope that Neville will be happy among the badgers." Madam Sprout still frowned shortly, but at least nodded slightly.

"Speak for yourself," Draco commented, earning him a smack on the head by Astoria. "Be quiet and be happy about your new toy." His scowl turned into a smirk as he started to think about what he could do to his new dorm mate. "By the way: Draco and I will stay at Slytherin. Draco would never survive anywhere else and he'll need me to show a modicum of sense, at least."

Draco ignored the comment, still day-dreaming, while most others showed a mix of understanding smiles and slight groans.

"I'll stay there too." Daphne glanced at Professor Snape before she continued. "My friends are there and I still hope that Pansy and Millie will change with us around." She earned a very small nod from Snape for this.

"So this leaves only Mister Potter and Mister Longbottom. The choice from Miss Granger hasn't been influenced by Headmaster Dumbledore, but the hat told me already that he had something else in mind, back then."

Hermione blushed and nodded. "He wanted to put me into Ravenclaw. I convinced him otherwise." She had no wish to explain that her only reason had been that Minerva – the first witch she had ever met and the one witch that had impressed her most in her life – was a Gryffindor too. "But I don't wish to be resorted. Perhaps Ravenclaw would have been good for me, but I fear being around Gryffs had rubbed off too much."

Laughter and several nods proved that she wasn't the only one with this assumption.

"I want to stay at Gryffindor too," Harry declared. "I'm not sure which house the hat would choose today, but I'm not unhappy. And after I infected poor Hermione, I can't simply abandon her."

"There goes the last hope of Miss Granger ever using her brain," Snape remarked, but for a moment Harry imagined he saw a small smile.

"I want to be resorted," Neville decided at last. "I'm happy at Gryffindor, but still I think I'm not quite right there. And: Perhaps to be away from my friends will help me growing up and be more independent." He shot a quizzical look at Hermione, showing whom he especially meant. In the past six months he had hardly been an hour away from her and perhaps he really needed a few new friends for a change. For a moment he feared to disappoint her, and he felt a wave of relief when she hugged him instead. Occupied with her reaction he didn't notice the approving looks all four house heads exchanged about his decision.

It was no surprise to anyone that he left the room a few minutes later a Hufflepuff.

.

"Miss Granger, Mister Malfoy," Professor Snape stopped them as they wanted to leave. "From next Friday on you'll have additional double potions right after lunch. Don't be late."

Without further explanation he left the room. Hermione stared after him for a while, until Draco hitting the door frame with his head prompted her to turn around. "Great. Another two hours with brainiac to spent. And how I know Severus, he'll force me to share a table with you."

Astoria shrugged. "Perhaps you'll learn a thing or two from Hermione. You could use it."

Draco glared at her.

Hermione wondered: "I've still now idea what he's speaking about."

"Additional lessons for outstanding pupils," Daphne explained with a smile. "Apparently you're in and Draco too."

"But he hates me."

"Obviously he hates me more," Draco whined.

Hermione glared at him, Harry grinned.

"You'll survive, Mione" Neville condoled, not very seriously. "You're still a Gryffindor." Somehow Hermione could hear his '_and you're yourself to blame for that part_'.

"And you have my permission to pinch and smack Draco, shouldn't he behave." Astoria grinned, ignoring Draco death glare. "And now, Draco, you'll have two ladies to escort back to the dorms." With a groan he obeyed and accepted her arm.

"You know," Daphne smiled before she linked his other arm. "There are dirty Weasels out there, I've heard."

.

"Please stay behind for a moment, Mister Longbottom," Madam Sprout begged him.

Most of the teachers had already left now. Only Hermione – after a pleading look of her boyfriend – stayed with him. With a small smile even Filius left his office to allow the trio some privacy.

"Mister Longbottom, next year there will be job counseling between every student and his House Head. But I would like to ask you now already: Have you thought about what you intend to do after Hogwarts?"

A bit confused Neville looked at Hermione, but she only grabbed his hand and pressed it a bit. Madam Sprout smiled. Yes, it would be good to have Hermione around now, especially if she interpreted the ring correctly that was now resting on Hermione's hand. Did the girl know about the importance of such a ring in a pureblood family like the Longbottoms? It didn't only mean 'I promise to stay true to you' but was also a sign of protection.

"I don't know in detail. But in any case I want to do something around Herbology."

"That's good to hear," Madam Sprout smiled. "I have an offer for you. You don't have to decide now, but within the next month would be good."

Now she had the rapt intention of both teenagers. "You already heard about junior teachers. Professor Snape already started and the other teachers will follow. But I'm in a special position. Perhaps you already know that Minerva wants to stop being Deputy Headmistress in a few years?"

Both teenagers nodded.

"As soon as Filius feels secure in his new office, she wants to introduce me to the duties of Deputy. Because we want to split the offices of House Head and Deputy, I'll have to retire from that in a few years, five at most because we want to finish these changes before the Board decides about an extension of Filius time as a headmaster."

_That made sense_, Hermione mused. _So the new Headmaster – should Filius not be successful – wouldn't be able to block these alterations_.

"Now about my offer: Neville, you're the most promising student in Herbology I had for a very long time. I would really like to see you as my successor."

Neville paled. This he hadn't expected. Dreamed about, perhaps, but never expected. He was unable to answer, his mouth opening and closing several times.

"Yes," Hermione answered instead with enthusiasm, paddling back not very convincing. "I mean: If he wants to do that, how would you like to continue. You certainly would have to hasten his education."

"Right to the matter, Miss Granger," Madam Sprout smiled. "And you're completely correct. If Mister Longbottom agrees, I would speak with Lady Longbottom about additional lessons in the summer break. He's already ahead of our normal lessons and would have no problems to take his OWL in Herbology before the new school year starts."

Neville paled even more: Taking OWL in four months – never.

Hermione pressed his hand. "No problem about that," she reassured him. "And then?"

Madam Sprout suppressed her smile. Without Hermione confidence in Neville's abilities this would be more difficult. And perhaps Neville had been right about needing a new house to develop more independence and self-confidence. "Neville would start his NEWT lessons next year and – from time to time – accompany me. After a few months I would allow him to teach first and second classes every once in a while to get some practice. Around winter break of his sixth year he should be ready for his Herbology NEWT. After that we'll have to decide if he wants to use the time to get more experience with teaching or start his Master."

Madam Sprout leaned forward and patted his hand. "Mister Longbottom, I don't want to frighten you and I don't intend to overburden you. I offer this, because I have no doubts that you would be able to do this. Don't decide now. Think about it. Speak with your friends and Augusta. And then decide."

.

_**Hogwarts – Charms Teacher Office – 28**__**th**__** of April – Friday Afternoon**_

.

Harry flopped down onto the cozy armchair that had become his favorite spot in Roxanne's office. She was still in the phase of changing the office to her tastes but it already was far away from the room full of weird memorabilia he knew from Filius – memorabilia which now would find a place in the Headmaster's office. Headmaster Flitwick – it still sounded odd. And he had only known Headmaster Dumbledore for four years. How must it be for the older teachers?

"You've been a bit distant to Daphne for the past days." Roxanne's voice disturbed Harry's thoughts and he turned around. He blushed a bit and felt ashamed. She was right about it, but he couldn't help it. "After you gave her the ring she really hoped, that you'll love her."

"I do," Harry protested, stopping himself instantly. Roxanne smiled softly, when Harry repeated with a lower voice. "I do, really, but …"

"Is it because of Cyrus?" Her voice was nearly a growl. If her good-for-nothing excuse-of-a-husband threatened the love life of her daughter, he would pay dearly. "You behaved this way since Astoria told you about Cyrus wish to engage you with Daphne."

Harry sighed and hid his face behind his hands. "Speak to me, Harry."

Harry looked up again: "Yes, in a way."

Roxanne's face darkened_. I knew it._

"I don't want to be a pawn in any game of the Malfoys."

"I understand, Harry. But tell me: Do you love Daphne? And did you offer Daphne the ring on your own?" He nodded weakly.

"Why did you do that?"

Harry pondered. _Why did he do it? Back then_ … "It felt the right thing to do. I got this jewelry from my aunt and I thought about my parents. I thought about how happy they had been, at least for a while. Remus once told me, that my mother didn't like my father very much until their sixth year. Only then did he change and grow up. Only then did they date, spent time with each other. They had only a few years together, far too short. I didn't want to repeat that. Daphne likes me now and I wanted to show her, that I do the same. You know: It's not so long ago, that I had a crush on Cho Chang. But now I can't imagine a day without Daphne and in a way by presenting the ring to her, I wanted to ask: Do you feel the same?"

"And what do you think now, what's her answer?"

"I think she's feeling the same." Harry answered with a thoughtful expression.

"I think so as well," Roxanne agreed. "Is it important what others think about it? So Dumbledore wanted to separate you – to Hell with him. And now Malfoy and my waste of a husband want to see you together – twice to Hell with them. Do what you want, Harry! Do, what you feel is the right thing to do. Don't listen to the gits of this world. Perhaps it's too soon to engage this summer. But who forces you? It's your decisions alone, yours and Daphne's. Please don't behave shabby towards her because of the thoughts of a Malfoy. You won't allow him to win and influence you?"

"No, I won't." After a moment Harry repeated with more determination: "No, I won't. Thank you, Mother."

.

_**Hogwarts – Great Hall – 29**__**th**__** of April – Saturday Lunch Time**_

.

With a kiss on her cheek Harry parted from Daphne to visit the Weasley twins. Since his conversation with Roxanne the day before, he had been able to apologize to his girlfriend and return to his former behavior. He felt lucky to have such an understanding girlfriend. With stubborn Hermione – he assumed – it would be much more difficult to make good for such a stupid stunt.

But now it was twin time. Harry grinned. They had returned with the other students and while they still used the pity ploy to get around some of the work in the lessons, they seemed alright again to Harry. They had promised Ginny to visit her next weekend, but today they stayed at Hogwarts.

"Charlie is with her," Fred explained.

"He planned some excursion with her and Fleur's little sister," George added.

"Still trying to fetch some brownie points, I assume," Harry grinned.

"Mother still isn't happy about Fleur."

"But father agrees and at the moment only his opinion matters."

"I have an offer," Harry slowly started.

"More money for our prank shop?" Fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"No, money for some students and especially Ginny." He waved Colin to take a seat at his side.

"You remember two years ago, the events around the Chamber of Secrets. What apparently everyone forgot: There is a dead Basilisk down there. Certainly much of the cadaver isn't useful anymore, but I hope that the magic of the chamber preserved at least the hide, the bones and the teeth."

"You want to sell the cadaver?"

"Yes," Harry nodded. "Next weekend – on our Hogsmeade day – I'll visit Gringotts and speak with the Goblins. I want to sell the cadaver and distribute the money. Most of it is thought to fund the school's changes. But a part will go to the students that got hurt. I hope I'm not totally mistaken about the worth of it, but please stay quiet until I know about what kind of money we're speaking."

"Why tell us now?"

"If I have a contract with the Goblins, I'll have to open them the way. I want Colin to accompany me to do some photos. And I thought you would like to come with me to have a look. I'll offer the same to a few others too, but with you being Ginny's brethren …"

"We would like that."

.

A dozen steps away Daphne and Hermione had taken seats at the Slytherin table. A few months ago the snakes wouldn't have accepted this kind of behavior – and Hermione wouldn't have dreamed of doing this either – but much had changed since then. Still some of the Slytherins – especially the older boys – were glaring at her. But she liked to spend the meals with Daphne, finding a kindred spirit in her at last, someone willing to speak about other things than Quidditch or clothes.

And to her surprise she had started to like the conversations with the other girls too, not only with Tracey – who amused her endlessly how she held her boyfriend Blaise under her thumb – but also Millie. The big girl had started to show a new side, a side able of deeper thoughts. Yes, Millie wasn't especially bright, but she wanted to learn. She was diligent and patient in her work and often willing to think for long times about a problem. Obviously this side was new to her dorm mates too. Pansy, who stayed silent most of the time, often stared wide-eyed at her friend and bodyguard when Millie surprised them anew with some deep thoughts.

"What is she doing here?"

_Oh, right_, Hermione groaned inwardly. _I have forgotten_.

From Blaise she knew that Ron's first week in the dungeons had been troublesome. The other boys tried to ignore him, with only Draco using every chance to insult him. The one time Ron had dared to insult him back Crabbe and Goyle had punched him into the ground. Not too seriously, only to show the pecking order. With no friends among the Gryffindors anymore – not because of his house change but thanks to the other students learning about his part in the whole 'we force Ginny onto Harry' matter – he had started to struggle for recognition among his new housemates.

He was still very angry and apparently felt betrayed by his former friends, tricked into this situation – not totally without good reason. So he began to insult them as often as possible, ignoring the fact that he already lost his new house some points with this behavior, as he wasn't very sneaky about it. So perhaps she shouldn't have been surprised to get a new round of insults, but she really had hoped that he would grow up eventually. She had hoped for too much, obviously.

"Hey, mudblood, I'm speaking with you."

Hermione paled. The pinging sound of Slytherin losing another ten points wasn't helping. Not that she felt really hurt by this dumb insult anymore, but she never expected to hear it from Ron. His family would be furious.

"What did you say?" Daphne's voice was ice-cold. Everyone around stopped to eat and watched the quarrel. Ron – feeling proud and totally ignoring that most Slytherins were glaring instead of sending any looks at him that could be called adoring – only smirked and stood up.

"I said … argh." He yelled and jumped back, when a pint of hot gravy hit his head from above. Looking up he saw an empty bowl floating above, at least for a second before the magical grip that held the bowl in place stopped and it came down smashing into his face.

"Ups … are we a bit clumsy, Weasel-boy?" Pansy's shrill voice caused Ron to forget the pain. He saw her store away her wand, smirking. Forgetting his own wand Ron hurled himself at the small girl, only to trip over Millie's foot. With much noise he came down among the plates, dishes and bowls on the table. Groggy he stood up again.

"What's going on here?" The drawling voice of Professor Snape stopped every further action and forced everyone to hide his smile – at least a bit.

"Mister Weasley feels clumsy apparently, Professor Snape," Pansy explained. "And he's unable to appreciate the value of hard work – you see how he handles the dishes our dear house-elves prepared with so much diligence. It's a shame, really!" Perhaps she shouldn't have winked at Hermione, but Snape ignored the gesture.

Instead he glared at Ron. Severus had heard the ping too and knew its meaning. Since he followed the example of the other House Heads there hadn't been often the case of someone using this special insult. Not only because it was forbidden now and cost the house points – something that angered quite a few Snakes – but because Draco and Pansy had forbidden the use too, for different reasons.

"Paddoc."

A groan escaped the throat of a younger Slytherin and Ron paled. Paddoc, the Pinegrew house-elf, had already been able to build up a reputation for disgusting detentions in the few days since Roxanne brought him to Hogwarts a week ago. The groaning second-year had been his first victim, when Roxanne – unwilling to cope with the boy anymore – assigned him a detention with Paddoc the grumpy imp. Snape had heard about his complaints the next day, how the hours at the kitchen had been worse than any trophy polishing under Filch's watchful eyes. So in a way Severus was quite happy for this chance.

"Paddoc, Mister Weasley wants to learn about the meaning of hard manual work. He has detention with you this afternoon. I expect him to clean all tables before it's time to prepare for dinner."

Paddoc bowed deeply, his evil smile showing that Ron wouldn't like the detention one bit.

_Perhaps Ron should really learn to keep his mouth shut_, Hermione mused with a slight smile.

.

_**A/N**_

_I looked into the Potter wiki, but there was no information about the houses of some of the teachers. So I decided that Professor Sinistra would make a good Ravenclaw._

_I'm still working on my script for the sequel. So if you have ideas/wishes, now it would be a good time to write about them. Will Ron come to his senses? Will Narcissa make her dream come true and poison dear Lucius?_

_Especially I'm unsure about what to do with DADA. Umbridge will be there as an Inquisitor (because of Filius). But should she be DADA teacher or someone else?_


	45. Chapter 45 A Prank with Consequences

_**A/N**_

_**1,000 reviews! I can't believe it.**_

_**Thank you so much for your ideas and your constructive criticism over the last 7 months.**_

**.**

**A Prank with Consequences**

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_**Hogwarts Grounds – 5**__**th**__** of May – Friday Late Afternoon**_

.

"I'm standing in the West at the outset."

Distracted by Luna's dreamy voice, Harry nearly missed the Stunner Neville sent his way. In the last moment he was able to dodge the attack.

"Long at the start, I'm shrinking with time."

With a lazy move of her arm Hermione used one of the many nasty curses she had learned from the Durmstrang Curriculum to force Cedric into a crouch, protecting his eyes with a shield.

"Accompany you your whole life."

"Shit!" Only a hasty drop to the ground saved Harry from the bludger. With far too much glee Daphne had tried to hit him. Perhaps his apology hadn't been accepted as well as he had hoped.

"Language, Harry."

Roxanne's voice crossed the grass field, without the Pinegrew lady looking up from her book. The friends had started to train Harry in earnest after their return from their Easter break. Neville used mostly Stunners and Disarming Spells, while the girls showed their interest in a broad variety of Curses, Jinxes and Hexes. Or in Daphne's case a broad arsenal of bludgers, baseballs and other thrown articles. Once she even showed up with a bow and some blunt arrows. "Only to make it a bit more interesting for you, darling," she had grinned before she showed her deadly accuracy again.

"And only at night I have my peace."

This afternoon they had invited Cedric to take part – not for the first time. And he had readily accepted. The friendship between both boys had improved much since the second task and again after Neville entered House Hufflepuff. The invitation was Harry's way to show everybody, that in his eyes Cedric was still the real Champion of Hogwarts. But it was his idea too to train the boy, because he still feared some kind of trap. There had to be a reason that someone entered him into the tournament, there simply had to be. And this could easily prove dangerous for the other Champions too.

Hermione had tried to invite Fleur too, but Madam Maxime had denied the invitation. "We don't need this," she had answered in a barely polite way. Hermione had only sighed and wished Fleur luck.

In the beginning Roxanne had been part of the training too and Harry still shuddered, thinking about her spells, attacks mostly targeted at his mind and senses. To hear invisible drums the whole time could be more than a bit distracting and her light Confundus Spells had more than once ended a fight prematurely. He had put away his bracelet for those sessions, still unsure if he would be allowed to wear them in the tournament.

But to his disappointment Roxanne now only accompanied them as a security measure. Headmaster Karkaroff had complained about a teacher helping him and the other jurors had to agree. Not that anybody doubted how much Karkaroff was helping Krum with his training himself. _Damned hypocrite!_

"Harry? I'm still waiting for your answer."

Luna's voice was a bit cantankerous even. Harry was impressed. The small Ravenclaw usually spend the training time to shot an endless stream of riddles at him, mixed with questions about the strengths and weakness of all kind of magical creatures and plants. For a moment he was distracted and allowed Neville's tripping jinx to hit him. Groaning Harry went down.

"Harry?"

Luna knew no compassion.

"I have no idea," Harry answered while he dispelled the jinx, dodged another bludger, and struggled to pull himself together.

"Shadow," Cedric answered correctly. "It's the shadow."

Luna blew him a kiss. "Correct!" They had started to behave like this somewhere last week. Harry assumed that it was only a kind of play, but with Luna you never knew. Colin hadn't become her boyfriend as expected and Harry had no idea if there was anyone else for the cute girl. He hoped there was. Luna deserved a bit of happiness.

"How has been your potions afternoon, Hermione?" Roxanne suddenly asked, getting an angry growl in response.

"Draco being a git again?" Neville sniggered.

"If you don't stop your grin this instant, Mister Longbottom, I'll ask Professor Snape to invite you too."

"No need," Neville smiled softly. "And he simply loves his cauldrons too much to follow your idea."

Hermione huffed. "Draco may behave better now with Astoria around, but alone he is still an irritating piece of work. And, as feared, Professor Snape ordered us to sit together." She groaned. "At least Professor Snape is behaving better now. Certainly he still isn't nice, but today he was fair. I even reaped fifteen points for Gryffindor."

Harry nodded impressed. A month ago Snape had rather shot himself in the foot than offering points to a Gryffindor. Despite her complaining Hermione seemed to like these additional lessons. She learned about new potions there and Snape used the time to speak in-depth about the details of different potion components. Hermione had started to annoy him with requests about explaining more in the regular lessons, too, but until now Snape had been unconvinced. "The dunderheads wouldn't understand."

_Perhaps he hadn't changed too much_, Harry grinned.

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_**On the way to Hogsmeade – 6**__**th**__** of May – Saturday Midmorning**_

.

"Thank you, Professor."

Severus glanced in her direction.

"Thank you for the chance, I mean."

Severus only nodded. As expected the girl had proven to be an adequate assistant. He remembered her quite well from her NEWT class. Penelope Clearwater had always been one of the best and – perhaps even more important to him – she had been very consistent and reliable in her performance. There weren't many moments of genius, but never had she been distracted or careless either. She only would have to work on her demeanor. She certainly was too soft. Yes, the students adored her. But especially in the first lessons of a new year a potion teacher had to drill fear into his students' heads.

"Simply avoid blowing up my classroom. That would show your gratitude in the best possible way."

Penelope offered him a small smile. "I'll try. By the way: I've spoken with Miss Granger about your point. You know: Frighten the students to avoid mishaps. She told me about measures in Muggle Labs. I liked the ideas with the protected tables and transparent protective screens between students. Perhaps we should use something similar. And we could try to explain the dangers. Perhaps show some pictures about possible results if the components are handled carelessly."

Severus huffed. The ideas weren't new to him. Granger had spoken about it with him too. Apparently now she tried another approach. He saw the logic in those measures, but his stubbornness was still fighting them.

"I was surprised to notice the change in Miss Granger," Penelope continued. "I remembered her to be more like Percy: Too much book-knowledge, far too few own ideas."

"Yes, she changed," Severus agreed. "Her friends had a positive influence on her."

"Oh," Penelope's smile deepened. "Speaking well about Potter, Professor? I'm shocked."

Severus huffed again. "Three years she had been friends with Potter without any change. Now she has been around a Slytherin for a few months and slowly starts to show real intelligence. No, statistics oppose your idea of Potter being the culprit for this improvement."

"Yes, Miss Greengrass and Miss Granger are an efficient team, especially regarding their charm potion inventions. Perhaps we should integrate some of them into our curriculum."

"Yes, exactly what I need," Severus sneered: "Another batch of students knowing how to bottle long term hair coloring."

Penelope shrugged: "You have to admit it had been a real inventive idea. And you'll see more of it anyway. George Weasley told me, that the twins got a recipe book from both girls for their coming of age a month ago."

"Wonderful, really wonderful!"

.

"I double-checked the list this morning," Penelope explained. She had been responsible to take inventory of the potion components in preparation of their purchase at Hogsmeade today. "And I noticed you crossed out the crushed Basilisk bones. We'll need the powder for the altered NEWT curriculum next year, don't you think so?"

"Yes, we do. But Mister Potter offered me to put apart some parts of the Basilisk that he wants to sell. There should be enough bones for many NEWT classes to come."

"That's very generous of him." She looked thoughtful, remembering her own experience with said Basilisk, her time as a statue until the Mandrake had been ready. She had listened very intensely to Neville's little speech at the meeting, the one about buying Mandrake weeks or even months earlier.

Severus glanced at her and nodded. Did she know that a small part of the selling price was intended to go into her own purse? Probably not, he decided. Potter mentioned it when they spoke about the cadaver, but otherwise he apparently wanted to stay silent about it.

"Oh, wonderful!" Penelope's cursed.

Looking up Severus could only agree. Percy Weasley had just left one of the shops and was looking around. It would be polite to greet him. Not that Severus had any interest or intention of being polite, especially not towards such a pompous git.

"Hello Penelope."

_Wonderful_, Severus groaned. He stepped aside to allow the 'friends' some privacy. He smirked as he noticed how Penelope rolled her eyes.

"Hello Percy, how nice to see you." Her voice told Severus how 'delighted' she was, but the boy seemed unable to understand the tone. Or he simply didn't mind.

"Congratulations for your new position."

Penelope smirked. She remembered quite well an afternoon two years ago. Percy had just spoken to Professor McGonagall and been furious because the strict teacher had denied his request to write a reference letter. "I'm sorry, Mister Weasley, but despite your broad knowledge and diligence, you lack some critical traits that would be essential to become a good teacher. Perhaps you could choose another path for the next years and try again later."

_She wanted you to grow up first. Not that the past years had helped in any way._

"Thank you. It's nice to have a place where my work and abilities are appreciated." Inwardly she was still furious. He could have helped her to get a better position. At least he could have helped her with that stupid sexist ass who had been her superior, still living in the last century, believing that a woman shouldn't work. He had felt threatened by her and made it quite clear from the start, that it would be a cold day in hell before he'd promote her. But Percy had been unwilling to assist her. He feared too much about his own position. Alright: Perhaps she could have been more supportive the weeks before that incident, when he praised his own very important work about some cauldron regulations.

Percy nodded slightly. "Perhaps I'll get a new position too in a few weeks. Miss Umbridge offered me a position as her assistant in the Magical Creature Regulation Department. I think I could do there much good."

Penelope frowned. She belonged to the growing group of persons who wished Umbitch a serious case of pneumonic plague. To have Percy the rule-follower being her assistant could only worsen the situation. And why should the old crock offer him this position? And why now? Perhaps it had something to do with the whole Weasley/Flitwick situation.

"Ah, I see. She wants to have an ear near your father."

"What? No, she hires me because she appreciates my abilities."

"Dream on, Puce. What abilities?" Percy glared at her, but Severus apparently thought the nickname to be amusing. "It's obvious she only needs a spy. And it's no wonder she chose you. You never knew loyalty, be it towards friends or family. Don't assume that I've forgotten how often you ratted out your own brothers as a prefect. And now you want to spy on your own father? You're disgusting. And now be gone, I've more important things to do."

Sneering a last time, Penelope turned around and followed Severus, leaving behind a fuming, very important young man.

.

_**Gringotts – 6**__**th**__** of May – Saturday Late Morning**_

.

"Please follow me."

The young Goblin led Harry and Daphne through the Hall towards Wyvernclaw's office. The young couple was alone at the moment. They would meet Neville at their second station of this little excursion, and Hermione had stayed at Hogsmeade. She wanted to spend the day with Fleur, trying to cheer the French witch a bit. Harry didn't know what was going on exactly, but apparently Fleur had been a bit depressed between her Headmistress not allowing her to train with Harry, Charlie staying in Romania, Molly's rejection of the relationship and the domestic bliss at Delacour Manor still on the short side after the second task disaster.

Harry sympathized with Fleur and her mother. That her father had agreed to use his younger daughter as Fleur's hostage was nothing what he would have expected from a loving, caring father. Hopefully Mrs. Delacour would get her way in the future, especially next year with Gabrielle at Hogwarts.

"Ah, Mister Potter, Miss Greengrass, I'm happy to see you."

For a moment Harry stopped and stared flabbergasted at the accountant of the Pinegrew wealth. Grumpy Wyvernclaw seemed to be markedly cheerful today. A young Goblin stood at his side – _a female Goblin_, Harry wondered.

"Allow me to introduce," he continued after the young Goblin left and the door was closed. "This is Coppertooth, my new assistant."

Harry bowed slightly. This was unusual. There weren't many female Goblins working as accountants. And to be Wyvernclaw's assistant – in her young age as far as he estimated – she had to be really good.

"My aunt Ironsides …"

Harry's eyes widened shortly. This information was new to him. He should speak with Agatha about it.

"Choose her to be my new assistant. If you agree, she'll be responsible for the day-to-day work of the Lily Evans Foundation and your own vaults. She's also managing the Granger vault and the one for the new library advisory firm of Mister Lupin. I assure you, that Coppertooth is completely trustworthy and well-educated."

"I'm certain that someone chosen by Mistress Ironsides will prove to be faultless in her performance. I accept."

.

"So, if I understand you correctly," Coppertooth looked up from her notes. She had been scribbling furiously, reminding Harry very much of Hermione working on her last assignment. "You want Gringotts to send a group of workers to Hogwarts, disassemble a sixty foot Basilisk, carry the parts away and organize the selling."

"That's the idea," Harry nodded. "A few parts are to be put aside for Professor Snape, as memorabilia or for later use, but 90% should be sold." He offered two parchments to her: "I'm able to sell the Basilisk because of my right of conquering as the slayer of the beast. But to avoid any trouble and paperwork I arranged these letters from Headmaster Flitwick and Mrs. Amelia Bones. They agree with the selling."

Coppertooth examined the letters and nodded after some minutes.

"Naturally there will be a handling fee, but according to the wishes of Mistress Ironsides we'll be moderate about that. The selling will need some time. If you agree, we'll give you a first payment of 20,000 Galleons after the first visit to the mentioned chamber and cash up after the selling. That should be at the end of the year. We'll need this time to avoid flooding the market with Basilisk parts."

"I trust your experience in the matter."

"Do you want the money to go into your school trust vault?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "That's a bit more complicated. My godmother Lady Pinegrew opened a new vault in the name of Hogwarts last week, as far as I know."

"Yes, it is meant to be used for gathering new funds. The earnings from the Hogwarts' potion selling will be put in that vault as will the money that Gringotts intends to donate."

"The largest amount of money from the Basilisk shall be put therein too," Harry ordered. "Parts of the money distribute in this way, please" he gave her another parchment "and use the first payment to pay for this."

Coppertooth read the list carefully: "Pay the fees for the last three or four years at Hogwarts of Mister Colin Creevey, Mister Justin Fitch-Fenley, Miss Hermione Granger, Mister Ron Weasley and Miss Ginny Weasley. Pay 500 Galleons to Mister Argus Filch. Pay 1,000 Galleons each to Mister Rubeus Hagrid and Miss Penelope Clearwater."

"These persons are the students and teachers that suffered from the Basilisk two years ago." Harry had chosen this way to repay them, because he had qualms about putting too much money into Ron's hands. This way he would have enough money to buy a few nice things and paying for his time at Hogwarts would be an option to help Arthur too. The proud man would otherwise certainly decline any offer of money. And this way there would be no way for Molly to force her daughter to leave the school after her OWLs. Ginny was a bright and talented witch. She deserved to exploit her full potential.

"I understand." Coppertooth recalculated: "With the changed fees that will be valid next year these donations amount to 16,000 Galleons."

Daphne leaned towards Harry and whispered something. He nodded. "Please add an allowance for the five active students of 200 Galleons each and put the rest 3,000 Galleons into a trust fund. Mister Arthur Weasley – and only he, not his wife – is allowed to extract up to half of the money to pay expenses for his daughter. Miss Weasley gets access after her NEWTs."

"It shall be done."

.

"I hope the selling will be as lucrative as Coppertooth expects it," Harry sighed. The visit at Gringotts had been successful but exhausting. Coppertooth and Wyvernclaw expected another 70-80,000 Galleons that would go into the coffers of Hogwarts, money needed direly to pay for the additional subjects and teachers. But it would be worth it. And they hoped that many parents would – after watching the change, watching the difference – be willing to donate money too.

They had spent another thirty minutes to control how the measures had fared so far to get back the stolen money and especially the items stolen from Potter Manor. Harry sighed. They would still need months, perhaps even another year, to clear all cases. But they progressed at least.

As a last point he had ordered Coppertooth to buy a case of Mandrake, Dittany and other rare healing herbs and send it to Madam Pomfrey. "She'll need it after the third task if Hermione is right about it." Daphne had only smiled silently. With Madam Pomfrey possessing these herbs, Harry would be securer too.

"But enough about money," Harry smiled suddenly. "Let's go to St. Mungo's now."

.

_**St. Mungo's – Early Afternoon**_

.

"And you really want to take the test in Ancient Runes, Harry?" Neville wondered. He was rubbing his hands in a nervous manner, walking back and forth in the waiting room. It was obvious that he wasn't really interested in the conversation; that he was only struggling to distract his mind. But Harry had no qualms about that. He was willing to speak about everything, if it was helping his mate's nerves.

"Daphne thought it would be a good idea to take the test in four weeks," he responded. "So I'm able to see where I'm standing in that subject. And I prove that it was right to allow me to change my subjects. That it wasn't something senseless, only allowed because of my reputation."

"You'll do fine," Daphne commented. She was sitting on a chair to his left and leaning against his shoulder, one of her books about the healing arts in her hands. With a cute gesture she put her long hair behind her left ear, like offering her ear to Harry. He knew she liked him to kiss it, but that had to wait. It certainly would embarrass Neville quite a bit otherwise. "You'll perhaps never have the marks of Hermione because you're unwilling to learn more 'school-wise', but you'll get an E, I'm sure. You already surpassed me in the subject."

"You exaggerate," Harry contradicted her half-heartedly. But perhaps, he thought, Daphne was right. Their teacher believed Harry to be a prodigy in Runes and Daphne, despite having more experience and certainly not being bad at it, had never liked the subject in the same way as Charms or, surprisingly, Care of magical Creatures. "By the way: Aunt Petunia sent greetings and wanted to thank you for your Arithmancy notes from, last year." Harry was still flabbergasted every time he pondered about his Aunt and her enthusiasm for this difficult subject.

Daphne only smiled. She had been eager to soothe the relation between Harry and his last blood relatives. And somehow, she knew, Petunia had at least to accept magic, before friendship could blossom between her and her nephew. If a way of helping her was to give her an understanding of Arithmancy, she would certainly not stand in Petunia's way.

"I always wondered why you aren't better at Arithmancy yourself," Harry surprised her with his comment. They rarely spoke about it, because Harry hadn't chosen it himself. So he had apparently asked Hermione. "I thought it's about breaking down spells into its components and reworking it to change its effects. And isn't that what you're doing all the time?"

"In a way, yes," Daphne agreed. "But I'm not doing this like a scientist. For me a spell is not just a formula, nothing to change some variables to get a different result. It's more like feeling the spell and begging it to allow me an alteration. For you – and most others – a spell is like a sphere: Absolute round and perfect. But for me it resembles an icosahedron: Nearly round but with many peaks and edges. I'm able to pull at every peak and push against every edge. And every pull or push changes the spell's result somehow. It's like living nature."

.

"I leave you alone with your parents, Neville. I'll be next door, should you need anything." With a last smile towards Neville the old nurse left. She had seen Neville visit his parents for more than a decade now. In a few years she would retire, but the picture of the nice boy sitting patiently by his parents' side would never leave her mind, she was certain.

Neville nodded weakly, but didn't take the seat at his mother's side as usual. He was always spending more time with her. Perhaps it was a bit unfair, but his relation to her had been deeper before the 'incident' and somehow he cared more for her even today. Perhaps it was simply a result of her stronger reactions to his visits. While his father showed absolutely no sign of sensing his son, Alice Longbottom sometimes turned to Neville and more than once offered him a colored chewing gum paper or similar silly things. He had collected them over the years in a small box at home, the gifts presenting his most precious belongings.

"Are they always like that?" Daphne asked softly. She went to Frank's side and slowly caressed his slightly matted hair. He showed no reaction, not even the tiniest motion of his eyes. But there was pain clearly visible in them, more than enough to nearly push Daphne away after a single glance.

"Yes," Neville nodded weakly. "Do you really think …" He was uncertain about this visit now, uncertain because he feared to hear that there was no hope. Perhaps it would have been better to stay away and hold onto that hope.

"I only want to get a first impression of their condition, Neville. I can't really say what will be possible. But I hope I'll be better able to know what I have to learn in the next months, what questions to ask my teachers." She patted his hand: "Have faith."

.

Contrary to her husband Alice Longbottom had shown tiny signs of a reaction. Her eyes moved a bit and seemed to focus for a short moment. She sighed and relaxed, when Neville started to brush her hair. He was occupying the place at her head, while Daphne was sitting at her side, grasping Alice's hand and silently watching her. The hand was tense and despite her son's presence the older witch showed clear signs of fear and pain on her face. Her eyes were flickering now and Daphne expected her to somehow relive the moments of the attack years ago.

_Oh God, please don't let me mess this up_, Daphne prayed silently. She didn't feel nearly as secure as she tried to behave. But Neville needed this reassurance, she knew. Someone put his hands on her shoulders and gently massaged them. Daphne relaxed again and shortly leaned back against Harry's chest. Again he had sensed that she needed him now.

Daphne felt his presence at the edges of her mind. Harry used the link to soothe her nerves and Daphne appreciated this dearly. Putting down wall after wall she let him in, allowed him deeper into her mind, his presence calming her more with every step he took.

{"I don't want to invade."}

{"Stay, Harry. I trust you.} Daphne sensed his nod and continued to allow him into her mind and heart. There were pictures of her friends and family, pictures of happy moments and painful events. Harry sensed the strong emotions Daphne had towards her family: How she trusted her mother, the adoration towards her Grandma, but especially her love for Astoria. He always assumed that her sisterly love was a very deep one, especially after the boggart incident. But only now he could feel this intensity. Harry only hoped that her little sister would never betray this love.

And then there were pictures of her friends: Kind Neville, cute Luna, incredible bright Hermione and vulnerable Ginny. For a moment Harry was surprised to realize how protective Daphne felt for the girl and how deep-rooted her hatred and rage was towards Molly, Dumbledore and Ron to play with the girl's feelings. And there he saw himself: Tall, with broad shoulders and a six-pack, like a figure from a Coke commercial. _This is how she's seeing me?_ He wondered. But hastily he pushed such thoughts aside. This would only embarrass her and there would be another time to speak about this.

Slowly the pictures disappeared and Harry saw something like currents of energy. He knew that these were how his mind interpreted the magic in Daphne. While Hermione and Neville had never allowed him very deep into their minds, he knew that their 'currents' had a different appearance. Neville was a broad, deep stream, the waters of his magic still working at the edges of the riverbed to broaden it. Hermione was similar to a network of channels with new branches opening every day. But Daphne reminded him of the veins in a leaf, very wispy but surprisingly strong if you tried to rip them apart.

A small sigh was the only sign of Daphne resolution to enter Alice's mind at last. Harry followed her slowly, always a few steps behind not to hinder or distract her. _Without her I wouldn't be able to enter Alice's mind_, he realized. _The walls are too strong and she is in no way willing to speak with us_. But Daphne hadn't any problems to find and use the tiny cracks in that wall, like the roots of a plant searching for sunlight.

The difference between Daphne's mind and Alice's was terrifying. The 'color' changed from a soft glowing blue to an angry, slightly pulsing red. For a moment he thought to hear a kind of wind, but then he realized that it was the reverberation of a scream. It was very difficult to find a way through this mindscape. Walls were everywhere, sometimes erupting from the ground right in front of them. The ground itself had the composition of quicksand and Harry had to follow Daphne step by step in her footprints. _How can she find her way in this_? Harry wondered. _I don't see any differences_.

Movement … Harry whirled around and saw a shadow disappear behind a wall. There … he whirled around again but still was too late to have more than a fleeting impression of it. This went on for some minutes. Daphne softly called for Alice, while she tried to invade the depth of her mind. It got hotter, the ground even more difficult. Harry felt something new: Rage.

Suddenly the shadow reappeared and jumped forward, something in his hand. Now at last Harry got a clear look and was stunned. It wasn't anything alike Alice, but instead a young woman with frizzled, blond hair and a mad expression of pure rage. The hands were long and slender. But it was the whip in her hand that frightened Harry the most. A snake-like motion and the whip hit Daphne across the face. She yelled, stumbled, went down on her knee.

The woman raised her hand for a second strike. But this time Harry was able to defend his girlfriend. Daphne, not looking at him but instead watching something in the shadows to her right, felt how Harry stopped the next hit with his arm. The pain was incredible. _How could Daphne endure something like this hitting her face?_

{"We have to leave."}

Daphne shook her head and still stared at the shadow. "Alice, come to me."

After the third stroke Harry was able to summon something like a shield. It wasn't a very elaborate one, more like the first handiwork of some northern Barbarian. But it did its work. Each stroke cut deeper into the 'wood' of his shield and more than once the whip bypassed it and hit his legs or body. But at least he was mostly able to shield Daphne. A few times she got hit too, but she still was only focused on that shadow. Something was in there, Harry felt, something small and frightened.

"No, I can't."

Harry was shocked to hear a new timid voice, too shocked to move his shield in time. The whip passed him completely and coiled itself round Daphne's neck. She gasped. Whatever had been in the shadow, now it fled completely.

{"We have to leave."} Harry repeated more urgent, while he grabbed for the whip to pull it away.

Gasping for breath Daphne nodded weakly and grabbed his hand. Daphne didn't want to leave, but she couldn't go on now, was too ill-prepared to be of any help for the small girl that was left of Alice Longbottom. She whirled around and moments later they were away, out of Alice's mind again, leaving her alone again with her mad tormentor.

"We'll return, Alice. I promise."

.

"Daphne, Harry," Neville's concerned voice roused him from his slumber. Daphne was lying on the ground at Harry's side, Neville bent-forward trying to wake her. "I'll fetch a Healer."

"No, wait," Harry stopped him. He tried to sit up, regretting it instantly. Never before had he felt such a headache. "Give her some time."

"But shouldn't I …"

"No, we can't involve a healer. Roxanne would learn about it and never allow Daphne to return."

"But if it's dangerous …"

"Neville," Harry smiled. "Would that stop you from helping?"

Neville thought for a moment before he shook his head.

"Then why do you think Daphne would feel different?"

Suddenly Daphne groaned slightly and started to move. As she started to get up, Harry held her down: "Relax."

The small motion had already been enough to show her the wisdom of this command. Slowly she turned her head and smiled in Neville's direction: "She was there, Neville. She is frightened and alone, but she's still there. We'll help her, I promise."

And Neville believed her.

.

_**Pinegrew Manor – 8**__**th**__** of May – Monday Midmorning**_

.

Sleeping as they were in the picture, the painted James and Lily still looked as she remembered them. _How could I ever forget how much I love her?_ Petunia wondered. After several weeks in a magical home she felt much more used to it, less threatened but even more jealous. _It will be better to be away from here_, she decided. _Better to not be reminded of something I'll never have_.

Ana Hernandez had examined her and Dudley a week ago. To Petunia's surprise she found a faint magical core in both of them. Technically, it seemed, they weren't Muggles but Squibs. So there had been another wizard in the Evans family generations ago. _We'll never get to know who it had been_, Petunia sighed. Dudley had been exalted to hear that there was a chance he could learn how to fly a broom. Ana had spent some hours with him, explaining some exercises from a book about increasing and steadying a magical core. If Petunia remembered correctly, Daphne had wanted to use that book too.

.

"_Our caretaker is a miserable man and I assume the reason to be the fact that he is a squib. Seeing us students every day and knowing that he'll never be able to cast a single spell, must be an awful experience."_

"_But you can't be certain that the increase will be noteworthy," Ana stopped her enthusiasm. "Perhaps the change won't be enough and even after months of exercising he'll still be like today."_

"_That's possible, but I want to try at least. Everybody deserves a bit of happiness. Perhaps this book will allow him to increase his core enough to give him this happiness."_

"_But he'll hate you, if you have no success with this plan. His disappointment will be great."_

"_I know, but I'm willing to dare it."_

.

Dudley had spent one hour every day with the exercises from the book. More would be too exhausting and could be counter-productive, Ana had explained. Petunia wasn't part of the training yet. She was not comfy enough with magic to do that. Perhaps she'll try later.

"Farewell, Lily." She whispered. "I hope you'll awaken soon. I miss you and Harry misses you even more." Roxanne had explained that it was only a question of time now. The amount of given memories should be enough to awaken the picture.

Someone entered the room and Petunia felt her son stepping at her side. He had really grown up over the last month. It had been a surprise to learn about how he had defended her and enforced magical healing against Vernon's wishes. Another change had been how she called him. Somehow it felt wrong to use his nickname – Diddykins – in this house. And obviously he liked it to be 'Dudley', the young man. Petunia sighed. Vernon had shown his true colors on that day four weeks ago. And his reaction afterwards had only been worse. Apparently he saw magic like a kind of disease that had infected his wife and son. He didn't want Petunia to return and even with Dudley he had his reservations.

_Don't fret_! Petunia growled. _We won't embarrass you anymore_. She had extracted her inheritance from their account and offered a separation to her husband. It had been a tad hurtful how easily Vernon accepted it. _No pain of parting on his side_, Petunia sighed, _after fifteen years of marriage_. But still she could see her marriage as a complete failure. She had Dudley now and was grateful for him.

Agatha Pinegrew had offered them residence in a small cottage not far away from Pinegrew Manor. She would live among Muggles but would still be able to see Harry and his new family again. Her inheritance should be enough for a while and Petunia was thinking about continuing her studies again next fall. She even had started a correspondence with Hogwarts Arithmancy professor Septima Vektor and to her surprise she really liked the clear and stringent way of her reasoning. Slowly the dust and mustiness in her mind, collected in years of being Vernon's wife, started to disappear and her old self reappeared.

"I've thanked Roxanne and Agatha, Mum. I'm ready to go now." Seeing her thoughtful expression, Dudley hugged his mother. "Everything will fall into place, Mum."

Petunia offered him a small smile. "Yes, Dudley, everything will be better from now on."

.

_**Hogwarts – Charm Teacher's dorm – 14**__**th**__** of May – Sunday Early Morning**_

.

The clinking of glasses and plates was the first thing Roxanne noticed, shuffling of feet without shoes, whispers, and the voice of Astoria in the adjacent sitting room. Then there were smells: Coffee, bred, and _flowers_?

Roxanne was confused. This wasn't her birthday. But obviously Astoria and – according to the whispering voices – Daphne and Harry were preparing some kind of breakfast for her. What was the reason? Had they done something, some silly prank gone wrong? No, not all three. And Daphne would prevent Harry from getting caught anyway. A small smile played around her lips. Perhaps it was wrong to like this 'virtue' of a daughter: The ability to help her boyfriend with pranks in a way that he never was caught in doing so. But she loved this silly side nonetheless. It was a side Harry had carved out of Daphne over the last months.

"All ready?" Astoria asked. Apparently the others agreed. Hastily Roxanne closed her eyes again when three pairs of feet neared the door. They stopped. Daphne giggled. Roxanne felt her heart warming up hearing this girly sound from her formerly far too reserved daughter.

Suddenly all three started to recite something. A few times one of them stumbled, only to fetch up again and continue with the others. They recited the text with much emotion but without any sense of rhythm.

"Mom's smiles can brighten any moment,  
Mom's hugs put joy in all our days,  
Mom's love will stay with us forever  
and touch our lives in precious ways...  
The values you've taught,  
the care you've given,  
and the wonderful love you've shown,  
have enriched my life  
in more ways than I can count.  
I Love you Mom!"

After the first two lines Roxanne dared to open her eyes. Slowly the words began to sink in. _Mother's Day_, she realized. Hermione spoke about it a few days ago – some silly Muggle celebration. Valiantly she tried not to grimace as they continued. _O god_, she groaned inwardly. Finally they stopped, their faces showing how relieved they were to have survived this ordeal.

"That was …" Roxanne pondered for a moment. _Should I lie in such a moment? Wouldn't it be nicer_? But then she realized that a compliment now would mean a repetition next year. _Scary_. "… horrible."

To her surprise all three teenagers broadly grinned. "You should have heard our 'Mother is the best' song," Astoria grinned.

"Oh no, please don't" Roxanne groaned. Her expression quickly changed into a smile when Daphne put her slippers in front of the bed and Harry offered her dressing gown like a gentleman.

"Thank you, kind sir." Roxanne bowed her head slightly.

"You're welcome, Ma'am." Harry offered his arm and led her into the neighboring room. A table was waiting there with all kind of breakfast dishes, several vases with her favorite flowers and a few presents under a large box of the best chocolates from Belgium.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mum."

.

_**Hogwarts – 6**__**th**__** year Boy dorm – 18**__**th**__** of May – Thursday Late Afternoon**_

.

"You really want to do this?" Lee Jordan stared at the twins like seeing a pair of utter morons. "I mean: We're speaking about Moody. You remember: Ex-Auror, scary, constant vigilante trigger-happy Moody."

"Yes," Fred grinned like it was the best idea since the invention of Canary Cream.

"It will be a gas," George agreed.

"And we have Kitty's allowance."

"She wants it," George said with a wink.

Kitty – that was Professor Minerva McGonagall and the twins hadn't forgotten their conversation months ago. The time had been too troubled since then, but it was a chance they didn't want to miss.

"She asked you in February," Lee remarked. "Now the year is nearly over. He'll be gone for good in a month."

"See," Fred agreed. "We have to act fast."

"Do you want to miss such an opportunity?"

"To prank a teacher …" Fred asked.

"… with the allowance of the Deputy Headmistress."

"I don't know. Certainly she hadn't this in mind."

Fred stared at his friend like he was mad. "What do you think she expected us to do?"

"Perhaps," George offered "nicely ask him to give us his flask."

"Yes, that would be a hit. Professor Moody, there are rumors about a drug addiction of yours."

"Would you be so kind and let us have a look into the contents of your hip bottle?"

The twins roared with laughter and Lee shook his head in a defeated manner.

"Now, mate …"

"… are you willing to help us?"

.

"You bastard, I'll kick your ass."

Fred's angry voice thundered through the corridors of Hogwarts. Professor Moody had just left the DADA classroom and was answering some questions of a third year Ravenclaw. Looking up he watched the corridor. Fast steps neared around the corner and someone in the robe of a Gryffindor appeared. A slightly terrified Lee Jordan yelped: "I can explain …" Full speed he ran towards security, towards Professor Moody, who just gripped his wand, ready to react.

"Explain, I give you explain," an equally furious Fred Weasley came in sight with a concerned George and a frantic Angelina Johnson close behind. "It's a misunderstanding, Fred," she tried to stop her boyfriend.

Still running Fred suddenly threw something towards his friend. Moody reacted instantly and raised his wand to deflect the 'missile'. At least he intended to do that. A warning cry of Angelina caused Lee Jordan to jump forward. Unfortunately he slipped and bumped into the professor, trying to slow his fall by grabbing his arm. A second later the missile – some kind of small ball – hit, not its original target but Moody straight onto the chest. The ball broke into a dozen splinters and soaked his robe with its fluid content. All came to a slithering halt, looking at Moody with shocked faces telling: 'we're in deep trouble'.

Angelina's eyes widened. "Professor," she pointed towards his chest, where small flames erupted. Hastily Lee and the blond Ravenclaw girl tried to put the flames out, achieving only to annoy the irritated professor still more.

"Stop it," he yelled and shoved them away, when two streams of water – thanks to two Aguamenti spells – hit him, put out the flames and soaked him.

Four abashed teenagers stared at Moody.

"Err …" a bewildered Fred was unable to say anything. "That wasn't meant to happen."

"Ouch!" He yelled, when his brother slapped his head. "I told you we have to test that yet. Happy, you moron?"

"We're so sorry, Professor," Angelina apologized, stepping between Fred and Lee to prevent any further outbreak of violence. "These two idiots …" she pointed towards Fred and Lee "had to act like some rutting trolls."

Fred at least looked ashamed, while Lee uttered haughtily: "It's not my fault that Fred is unable to share. Admit it, Fred: Angelina is too much of a woman for you alone." Fred lunged forward, only stopped by George's arms. Lee jumped back and hid behind the scary professor, watching Fred through Moody's crook of the arm.

Nobody really watched the blond Ravenclaw and Lee only smiled for a split second when he felt the bottle put back into his hands. Making a fuss about being brave – now that Fred slowly calmed down – Lee rounded Moody, patting his arm. "Thank you, professor, without you being here – I don't know what would have happened. Sometimes my temper is getting the better of me."

"One hundred points from Gryffindor," Moody's voice had no humor in it. "And detention for both of you for one week. And Mister Weasley …" Fred looked up "… you'll pay for this robe."

"Certainly, sir" he nodded glaring at the still smirking Lee.

.

"We did it, we really did it."

George grinned happily. Lee was breathing heavily. "I still can't believe it. That was so …"

"Crazy?" Angelina helped. "Stupid?"

"You have to admit, honey: We're really genius," Fred hugged his girlfriend.

Angelina shook her head defeated. "But remember this, genius: If you ever behave like that for real, I kick you into the groin that you'll never again need a girlfriend. Understood … honey?"

"Understood," agreed a suddenly very pale Fred.

.

"Polyjuice," Snape explained with a flabbergasted expression. He had been quite willing to help Minerva with the examination of the fluid the Weasleys had – with Luna's help – stolen from Moody. But the result wasn't what they had expected. No drug, but simple Polyjuice Potion.

"Why should he … it's not the real Moody." Minerva paled. Hastily she sent her Patronus to call Headmaster Flitwick, while Severus did the same to call Roxanne Pinegrew. A few minutes later all four teachers stormed into Professor Moody's dorm, wands at the ready. But nobody was there. Open trunks and empty drawers told them what they had to know.

The false Moody was on the run.

.

His master wouldn't be happy, oh no sir. For a moment he thought about running away, but that wasn't a real option. And luckily he had thought about every option, even this one. He had contingency plans.

When he saw the Weasleys with Minerva and that young potion teacher walking towards the dungeons, he realized that something was very wrong. A quick examination of his hip bottle told him, that someone had messed with it. It was only a question of time before they came running for him. He had to leave and quickly. He would brave the rage of his master. But beforehand he had a visit to make.

.

_**A/N**_

_About the __**Basilisk**__: I know that's an old idea, but – in my opinion – still not a bad one. Harry needed money for Hogwarts and wanted to help the Weasleys. This was the simplest way. I often saw larger sums being paid for the Basilisk, but I think 100,000 Galleons (more than 2 million Dollars) is more than enough. _

_About the __**prank**__: Sorry, I'm not a Fred Weasley. This was the best plan I was able to devise. With someone like Moody I assumed it had to be something drastic to distract him long enough, not only to nick the bottle but fill a part of its content into another bottle and return his._

_ FrozenSpectre: Most criticism in the reviews has been directed at the first chapters of the story. I intend to rewrite them in the next weeks (after finishing this part of the story). It won't be a complete change, only a number of alterations and explanations._


	46. Chapter 46 Consequences of a Prank

**Consequences of a Prank**

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Office of Amelia Bones – 19**__**th**__** of May – Friday Morning**_

.

"You wanted to see me, Mrs. Bones?"

Amelia Bones looked up from her papers. After a very long examining look, that was enough to unsettle her visitor, she gestured Kingsley Shacklebolt to take a seat. She sighed inwardly. She really hoped that the Auror would choose wisely. She didn't like the idea of losing her best Auror. Trying to hide his nervousness Kingsley sat down. Tonks had visited him a few days ago to speak about the Order and his future as an Auror.

"_You have to choose, Kingsley," she had demanded. "You have to choose between your job and the Order. Perhaps it was makeable until now to arrange both, but with Headmaster Dumbledore's last plots it is clear now that you can't keep faith to your Auror's oath and be a member of the Order at the same time. Please, Kingsley, stay with us. Do the right decision and tell her."_

"Do you have anything to tell me?" Amelia asked with a voice of steel. She saw great potential in the man, but should he choose Albus over the law, she would crush him now.

Kingsley nodded sadly: "Yes, Ma'am. Until yesterday I've been a member of the Order of the Phoenix. But I left. Tonks spoke with me about it and I realized that she was correct: I can't uphold the law and follow Albus' lead. I have to make a decision. And I did. I'll stay at your side, Mrs. Bones, if you still want me there."

Amelia Bones allowed a tiny sigh of relief to escape her throat. Tonks had left the Order and now Kinglsey. This left only Hestia Jones to care about.

.

_**Hogwarts – Staff Room – 19**__**th**__** of May – Friday Late Afternoon**_

.

Hermione Granger followed Professor Snape into the staff room with tense nerves. The normally sardonic potion master hadn't reacted in the usual way when she asked him why she was needed here. The evening before had already been very weird. Roxanne had been silent and the twins avoided any conversation. The lesson in DADA had been cancelled today and nobody had seen Professor Moody since yesterday.

What was happening?

For a moment she relaxed as she noticed Daphne, Harry and Neville sitting in the staff room too. Augusta Longbottom was sitting there to the left of Agatha Pinegrew, both ladies clearly infuriated and concerned. From the teachers she detected Roxanne and Minerva as well as Headmaster Flitwick. Amelia Bones' presence was even more perturbing. The Head of the DMLE sat near the Headmaster with two of her Aurors – Tonks and a black-skinned man – and surprisingly Bill Weasley standing behind her.

The most unusual sight was certainly Remus Lupin. He sent Hermione a quick smile before he returned his attention to the small person who was sitting on his lap: Winky. Harry's house-elf was clinging to Remus and somehow the picture reminded Hermione of a father trying to soothe his troubled four-year-old daughter. Winky was clearly distraught and even Dobby – who was standing beside Remus' chair – was unable to console her. Hermione took a seat to Neville's left and hastily grabbed his hand. She needed this now, regardless of the amused looks of some of the adults. At least she saw Daphne doing the same with Harry.

On a sign of Headmaster Flitwick Minerva coughed to get everyone's attention and started to explain: "A few months ago I noticed that Professor Moody showed an unusual behavior, unusual even for him. More than once he had weird temper tantrums and often he forgot details about former events. He suddenly but clearly avoided my presence despite our long friendship. I feared that he returned to using some kind of drugs like he did years ago. As you certainly remember Professor Moody always had a hip bottle at his belt and drank regularly from it. Some weeks ago I begged the twins to help me getting a sample from this bottle's content."

Hermione inhaled deeply like most of the attendants. This was quite unusual and she never would have expected something like this from her mentor. But it made sense. A simple switching spell would be something the 'constant vigilante' professor would have noticed. So it had to be a better plan, something worthy of the twins. She had to ask them later how they managed the job.

"Because of the past events" she hadn't to explain that she was speaking about Ginny "the execution of the plan was delayed, but yesterday they successfully extracted a sample and brought it to me. Professor Snape examined the sample. To our surprise he didn't find some drug or – as I expected – Pain killer within. Instead we learned that Professor Moody was using Polyjuice Potion."

"Silence," with steel in her voice Amelia Bones stopped every erupting discussion and gestured Minerva to continue.

"We went to Professor Moody's rooms. They were deserted, the trunks and drawers emptied with signs of a hasty departure. All trunks apart from a single one: A magical prison trunk contained the real Moody, without his artificial leg and eye and in a deplorable condition. We brought him to St. Mungo's where he is treated now."

"So," Hermione asked "someone captured and kidnapped the real Moody and used his hair to pretend to be him, teaching us for weeks or even months?"

"Apparently he has been a pretender for the whole time, Miss Granger," Minerva confirmed. "While the pretender was able to flee with most of his belongings, he left behind some papers. They all show the same handwriting and some of them are months old."

"But what was his intention?" Harry asked. "Was he the one who manipulated the Goblet?"

"Yes, Mister Potter, we assume he did," Minerva nodded. "Among the papers we found notes about the Goblet and how it works." She stopped Harry's next question with a raise of her hand. "There is more to it. These notes were very detailed. Headmaster Flitwick examined them." She hesitated for a moment before she continued with a grave voice: "Someone gave him the information, someone from the jury most likely."

"So the rumors were right," Neville commented "the rumors that Headmaster Dumbledore wanted Harry to take part in the tournament."

"That's one possibility, Mister Longbottom. Another one that holds merit is that Headmaster Karkaroff was working with the pretender."

"Why Karkaroff?"

"Because he's a former Death-Eater," Professor Snape interjected. "He was able to save his hide through betraying his former comrades after you-know-who's fall, but he never changed his world view. Perhaps he wanted revenge for his former master. But it is more likely that the pretender somehow blackmailed him to help him. There is another possibility too, but I assume Mrs. Bones will speak about that later."

"What about the real Moody? Can't he answer some of these questions?"

"No," Minerva sadly shook her head. "He has only been conscious for some minutes after his arrival at St. Mungo's. Since then his condition worsened. Apparently he was the victim of many curses, Crucio, Confundus and Imperio being the most often used. And the pretender only left after he cast some dark curse on him. The healers are still examining him, but it seems like it is some painful withering curse that slowly kills him."

Most of the attendants gasped and looked shocked.

"We'll try to help him," Agatha said. "Remus and I will search the Black library for hints about that curse and hopefully a counter spell."

"And Mister Bill Weasley," Minerva continued "agreed to examine the Goblet. We want to avoid further bad surprises. At the moment the most probable intention of the pretender was to kill Harry in a spectacular way. Something like blowing him up when he reaches the goblet at the end of the third task would certainly do the job."

Harry paled slightly. He had known from the start that something like this could be the plan. God, the false Moody himself suggested something like that right after the choosing. But to hear it from Minerva was still shocking. With a sigh of relief he noticed Daphne holding his hand and hugging him.

"Do we have any idea about the identity of the pretender?"

"In a way, yes," Amelia Bones took the floor. "One of the few words Moody uttered at St. Mungo's was the name 'Barty'. As you know there is a Barty Crouch among the jurors. He has been ill for some months, the reason for Mister Percy Weasley stepping in. I sent a team to his home. What they found was disturbing: The corpse of Mister Crouch."

Winky sobbed again and Remus patted her back. Now Hermione realized the reason for Winky's behavior. Mister Crouch had been her former master. And while he had been an ass in the end, Winky still adored him.

"Apparently he had been killed only hours ago through an Avada."

"So," Harry summarized "we have an unknown pretender who kidnapped the real Moody and blackmailed Mister Crouch to get him information about the goblet. After his exposure he fled, not without trying to kill the real Moody and successfully killing Mister Crouch, perhaps the only person who knew his identity."

"That's the idea," the black-skinned man behind Amelia Bones agreed. He looked thoughtfully at Harry. "Have you ever thought about becoming an Auror after Hogwarts, Mister Potter?"

"No", Harry denied with a sour expression. "But the pretender asked me the same." This comment quenched any happy reaction to the question and allowed Amelia to continue.

"Sadly there weren't any hints about the identity of the pretender at Crouch Manor, aside from the fact that apparently he had been there quite often for months at least."

"Winky?" Harry suddenly addressed his house-elf. Harry left his chair and went to her, kneeling down at Remus' side. "Winky? Can you tell us about that bad man?"

Winky turned to him, her face wet from tears, her eyes puffy. She shook her head: "Not allowed."

"Winky," Harry pleaded "he killed your Master. He killed Mister Crouch. Certainly you don't want to protect him?"

"No," Winky shook her head wildly, her large ears flapping.

"You have to order her," Dobby leaned forward and whispered into Harry's ear. "You're her new master."

Harry sighed and nodded after a minute. Hermione wouldn't like this, but it had to be done. "Winky, I'm your master, right?"

Winky nodded weakly.

"And as your new master I command you to help us in any way to catch the bad man that killed your former master. Can you do that?"

Winky looked quizzical at Dobby and after getting a comforting smile, she nodded again.

.

"I still can't believe it," Hermione sighed. "How could he do this?"

They had left the meeting an hour ago and were sitting in one of the new common rooms now. Winky had explained how Barty Crouch senior had freed his son years ago with the help of his dying wife. After that Crouch junior had been a prisoner in the house of his father until he was able to turn the tables. This – through the events at the Quidditch finals – had led to Winky's short freedom and her now working for Harry.

"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "This Crouch junior apparently was a very wicked man, but I understand a father who tries to help his son. And his wife was dying. Would you be able to deny your dying partner a last wish?" After a moment of thinking Hermione shook her head. "And he paid dearly," Harry continued. "He paid with his life."

"I only hope that they'll be able to rescue Moody, the true one I mean," Daphne sighed.

"I'm certain they will," Harry comforted her. Then he noticed how silent Neville was. Thinking back he realized that Neville had been like this since they heard about Crouch. "Neville? Are you alright?"

Neville sadly shook his head. "He was one of them." He sighed again. "Crouch junior was one of those Death Eaters who tortured my parents."

"Oh, Neville," Hermione embraced him.

Harry was silent for a while, watching his friends. "They'll get him, Neville. They'll send him back to Azkaban."

.

_**Dumbledore Manor**_

.

It was far too early for this amount of Firewhiskey, but Albus Dumbledore needed it. All was breaking apart, his whole world going asunder. He lost his job, he lost his friends and now the Order was in shambles.

Remus, Sirius and Tonks had left the Order weeks ago, followed by Minerva, Severus and Filius. Arthur had left with most of his family, leaving only Molly and Ron – who wasn't an official Order member yet – on his side. Only yesterday Kingsley had followed Tonks' example, depriving him of his most important ear within the DMLE. Hestia Jones at least stayed firm – until now at least. Hagrid was still on his side, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Doge and Mundungus Fletcher. Many of the lower Order echelons stayed with him, his ears within the Ministry and on the street – unlike Arabella Figg. The elder squib – disgustingly unthankful after all those years he had supported the worthless squib – had left after scolding and insulting him for quite some minutes.

Albus sighed. But the last blow had been Moody. _How could I overlook this_? Albus wondered. That he had allowed a pretender to stay at Hogwarts for months was another blow to his reputation. At least they believed that it had been Crouch senior who supplied the pretender with information about the Goblet. Hopefully they never learned the truth. _I have to make certain about this. He can't be allowed to be caught alive._

.

_**Hogwarts – 21**__**st**__** of May**_

.

"I knew it." Hermione's smile couldn't get broader without splitting her face in two.

Harry groaned. "God, she'll be unbearable now."

Just half an hour ago Ludo Bagman had gathered the champions at the Quidditch field and explained that the third task would be a maze with riddles, creatures and plants of all types. Hermione, who had been planning Harry's training for just that scenario, was apparently more than a bit self-contented now. Only Neville felt depressed. He hadn't been allowed to help Madam Sprout to prepare the maze because of his friendship to Harry. He would have liked to examine all the plants his mentor intended to use there.

Daphne punched his shoulder. "Be nice. And be happy that she was right about it. Else we would have to intensify your training to adapt to a different type of task."

"Oh no," Harry groaned again. "How could you intensify my training even more? It's impossible."

Hermione grinned evilly: "Don't you dare me."

.

_**Hogwarts – 22**__**nd**__** of May – Monday**_

.

"He isn't bad as a teacher," Daphne admitted. They were sitting at the dinner table, explaining Neville how their first DADA lesson with the new teacher had been. Kingsley Shacklebolt, the black-skinned Auror from the meeting three days ago, had agreed to take Moody's position and teach DADA for the last four weeks of the term. This way Headmaster Flitwick hadn't to search for another teacher and Kingsley was able to fulfill his second duty – organizing the protection of Hogwarts – less conspicuous.

"Yes," Harry shrugged, before he turned to Tonks. "But I would have liked more to see you as our new teacher." She smiled back: "It's better this way. I can't really teach and protect you at the same time."

Harry nodded. He knew that Tonks was right. Amelia had persisted on a bodyguard for Harry and Tonks had been his choice. He trusted her completely – especially after she had left the Order – and was less embarrassed to have her around when he wanted to hug and kiss Daphne. He only had to avoid staring too much in her direction. Tonks was a very attractive woman and neither Daphne nor Hermione had much patience with ogling boyfriends.

"Roxanne is expecting us for our training in an hour," Hermione reminded them. "You should eat a bit and relax some minutes. The training will be exhausting again."

Harry groaned. "She's really wicked. Why have I ever hoped to get her back for training?"

"Because she is still nicer than Aunt Ana," Daphne deadpanned.

One of the resolutions of the meeting had been to continue the training of Harry and his friends, even against the wishes of the other Headmasters. "I really don't care," Headmaster Flitwick had declared with an unusual determination. "I certainly don't intend to lose a student in my first quarter as a Headmaster. Harry's life is much more important than any silly outdated tournament."

"I fear you're wrong, Daphne," Hermione interjected. "Ana wrote me, that she's working on getting a few weeks of vacation. She wants to be here until the third task."

"There goes every hope of an evening without headache," Harry sighed. Instead of compassion he got a punch to his shoulder from his girlfriend.

"At least we'll be able to speak about … this and that." Daphne explained dubiously, shortly glancing at Tonks.

Harry frowned; then he relaxed. Apparently Daphne was speaking about their experience at St. Mungo's. She had hoped to speak about it with Ana and perhaps even Nowles since then, especially about Harry's ability to follow her into Alice's mind and protecting her. Perhaps this was something that could be helpful later.

"Let's go," Hermione urged.

"Yes," Harry agreed. "Let's face the gallows."

.

_**Hogwarts – Filch's Office**_

.

Slightly irritated Caretaker Argus Filch looked up from the little book, when a black-white tomcat rushed into his office. For a tiny moment an astute observer would have noticed a smile, but hastily he showed his usual scowl again and hid the book under some papers. Seconds later a girl entered. Argus had seen her – a Slytherin – before, but hadn't known her name until a few months ago, a clear sign that she didn't belong to the usual troublemakers – or was at least careful enough not to get caught.

Then he learned about how Miss Greengrass rescued this same tomcat which apparently belonged to Harry 'rule-breaker' Potter. It had been when Mrs. Norris had been pranked by two second-year students, feeding his beloved cat with something that caused her endless stomachache. Poppy had called her and allowed her to heal Mrs. Norris – against Argus wishes. But she had succeeded at the task and since then the girl belonged to the small – or better tiny – number of students he didn't hate like the rest.

"Do you have a moment for me, Mister Filch?"

That she was always polite to him – something he wasn't used to – certainly helped. He still waited for some prank of her or a demand of repay; he was not really certain that she could behave like this without any own agenda. But he gestured her to take a seat and waited.

Daphne sighed and smiled weakly. This could easily backfire now. "Mister Filch, I wanted to discuss something with you. Perhaps I'm a bit presumptuous with this matter, but I promise it is not too belittle you or play a prank. I really want to help or at least try to do so."

Now he was listening intently. Slowly he nodded after a look towards the cats. Someone who was willing and able to heal a cat can't be too bad.

"I understand that you are what we call a squib – a person born into a magical family, with a small magical core but without the ability to cast spells. Am I correct?"

For a moment she feared that Argus would bristle at her question, but apparently her sincere and caring expression was enough to stop him – for now. He nodded curtly.

"I have this book," she put a small book on the table. "It is about training your magical core. It is meant especially for wizards and witches with below-average magical cores, to strengthen their abilities. But everyone could use it; even my friends and I will follow the exercises of this book after our seventeenth birthday, when our magical core steadied. I have to admit that I don't know if these exercises will really help you, but in theory they could strengthen your core. Perhaps they would strengthen your core enough to cast at least smaller spells."

Argus stared at the book. Could it be possible? _It can't be this easy_, he pondered. _If a little book and following some exercise was all he needed, wouldn't Headmaster Dumbledore mentioned it years ago_?

"Mister Filch: This book won't turn you into a wizard. Perhaps you'll follow the exercises for months and the change will still not be enough to cast a single spell. But it is a hope. Harry's – I mean Mister Potter's – cousin is a squib too. He's using this book, hoping that it will allow him to fly a broom someday. I don't want to give you false hope; I don't want you to be disappointed in a few months. But I thought you would perhaps like to give it a try at least."

.

"And?"

Hermione looked up from her notes about Charms she had been reviewing for the last hour in preparation of the exams. Daphne nodded with a small smile. "He'll give it a try. He isn't convinced, but he'll follow the exercises. I used the spell to examine the power of his magical core and I'll repeat the spell after the summer break. Then we'll know."

"I really hope you're successful. Not so much for him, but for the every student in the coming years. A less sulky caretaker can only be good for them."

Daphne nodded again. "I promised him to buy him a wand should the increase be enough. I thought about buying him one of Madam Guila's wands – perhaps with a stone to increase household spells."

"That will cost quite some money."

Daphne shrugged. "I know, but who cares. It is not like I would have to waive my breakfast for a month to pay for the wand and it would really help him."

"You're really like your grandma: Money is worthless if you aren't willing to spend it in a thoughtful and caring manner."

Daphne grinned happily: "I take it as a compliment."

.

_**Potter Manor – 27**__**th**__** of May – Saturday Afternoon**_

.

"A little break, perhaps?" Daphne pleaded. Sweat was visible in heavy drops on her face and her skin was quite red. The other teenagers didn't look any better. In the beginning they had been happy about Headmaster Flitwick's allowance to spend the weekend at Potter Manor, but a whole day of training with Ana 'hot iron mind' Hernandez cured this completely.

For endless hours they had to open and close their links, to concentrate on it, to strengthen it, use it as a defense against Ana's mind spells. While Ana switched the exact target of her spells like lightning, the teenagers had to react equally fast. They had to learn how to minimize the link to conserve their energy and maximize it again within seconds. Every one of them had a headache now and really wished for a break and something to drink: Sleep – heavenly sleep.

But Ana knew no compassion. "We only have this weekend. Tomorrow you'll have to train dueling techniques. This leaves only today to strengthen your link."

"But why?" Harry sighed. "It's not like we would be together at my third task. I'll be all alone there."

"Do you really believe that, Harry?" The disappointment was clearly visible on her face. "Do you really think you'll face the dangers alone? That your friends wouldn't be there with their hearts and minds? That this training wouldn't help you fight of Confundus Spells at the task? Harry, this task will be dangerous, more than anything you ever faced before. Not alone because it is the last task and everyone will give his best to win. It will be dangerous because someone wanted you to be there, someone who isn't your friend."

Harry looked thoughtful for a while and watched Ana as she glanced at Roxanne, who was sitting a score steps away, trying to appear calm. "She is really concerned, Harry. She fears for your life. There is a madman out there, who was willing to kidnap and kill Moody, a madman who killed his own father. He has planned something for this task. Roxanne wants nothing more than to stop you from participating, but she knows that you would never agree to that. So she has to make certain that you're trained in the best possible way. And this mind training is an important part. Perhaps the attack will be in the middle of the maze and you'll be alone. Perhaps it will right before or after the task, or at the party where will celebrate your victory." She smiled shortly.

"You're awful certain that I'll win," Harry grinned. In reality he was really moved by her little speech. And he knew how much his godmother – and not only she – feared for him, especially since they heard about the pretender. But he didn't want to think too much about it.

"I'm certain enough that I bet an exacta: You first, Cedric second."

"Why not Viktor second or Fleur?" Harry joked.

"Viktor is too full of himself and Fleur is too dependent on Charms and 'nice casting'. Both won't help in the long run."

"And if you lose to Cedric because you're playing nice again," Daphne growled "I'll kick your arse into next winter."

"Right," Neville slapped Daphne on her shoulder. "You're my mate, Harry, but after this training you have to win. No excuses."

"Now that we cleared this and you all are full of energy again" Ana interjected, ignoring the groans of all "we'll continue. CONFUNDUS."

.

"Ana?" Daphne stopped her aunt, allowing the others to escape into the Manor.

"Yes?" Ana grinned shortly. "I already wondered when you would ask me. You had something on your mind the whole day, I could feel it."

Daphne sighed and sat down in the shadow of an old copper beech. "I have a question about our mind link. Is it possible …" She hesitated, wondering how to continue. "Let's say I use … no … I mean … if Harry is with me and I cast a spell … for example to examine a mind of a patient." She stopped again, staring at her aunt like asking for help, but Ana's mouth stayed shut, her expression unreadable. "Such a spell is dangerous for me, isn't it? I mean IF I ever cast it in the far future."

The smile was very curt and without any humor. "You know that I can't speak with you about the Rapport spell, Daphne. At least not more than you already know, not until you're fifteen and you joined the Congregation."

Daphne nodded, visibly disappointed. "Yes, but I hoped …"

"Perhaps you could simply tell me what exactly happened."

Daphne looked around: "Only if you promise me not to tell my mother."

"Your mother would be furious about such a promise. I tell you what: You tell me what you did and I'll keep silent about it, but only if you promise not to do it again before you have been trained properly."

"Alright," Daphne sighed. "A few days ago Harry and I visited Neville's parents. You know about their condition?" Ana nodded. "I … I wanted to know …" she sighed deeply. "I cast a spell on his mother, to examine her. Not a simply spell, you have to know, but a linking spell that allows me to enter her mind."

Ana paled. She had expected – no: feared – something like that but still hoped Daphne would be more reasonable. "Are you insane?"

"Perhaps a little," Daphne smiled weakly, something Ana didn't reciprocate. "I entered her mind, but Harry was with me. I … I found her, Ana." For a moment pure joy was visible, a joy that even reached her troubled aunt. "Alice Longbottom was still there. She was like a little girl, full of fear. But there was also someone else: A woman with wild hair. We assume it is that crazy bitch Bellatrix that had been one of her tormentors. She was the reason for Alice unwillingness to leave her hideout. And she attacked me."

Ana gasped. "That's exactly the reason why it is dangerous to enter a foreign mind untrained. Their fears can attack you too."

"I know that now," Daphne smiled weakly again. "I think alone I would have been lost. But as I said Harry was with me. He defended me. He stood between me and her and used something like a shield to protect me."

"I see. And now you want to know if that was a part of the Rapport Spell?"

"Yes," Daphne agreed. "Mother said to you that in a few years I could be able to heal Neville's parents." Ana gasped again and Daphne showed a lopsided grin. "Yes, I know about that conversation. You had an eavesdropper. But back to the topic: I hoped that with Harry's assistance I could help Alice sooner. Perhaps we could train this teamwork – Harry defending and I speaking with Alice."

Ana stared at Daphne for quite some time: "Your mother will flay me alive if she ever gets wind of this. Do you promise not to repeat this madness?" Daphne nodded: "Promise."

"Good," Ana sighed. "I'll speak with Nowles about it. Your bond with Harry is very strong and one of the uses of the Rapport Spell is to defend each other against mind attacks. So perhaps it is a reasonable idea."

She abruptly stopped Daphne's joy. "I said 'perhaps'. Don't get your hopes too high. Wait and see."

.

_**Potter Manor – 28**__**th**__** of May – Sunday Midmorning**_

.

Sending an Expelliarmus towards Remus, Harry quickly dodged Sirius' curse, following up with two stinging curses, one of them even hitting his godfather's hip. Both adults had insisted on fighting Harry as a team and until now he handled them fairly well.

"_You've been among the ladies far too long, Harry," Sirius smiled an hour ago. "It's really time for a bit of manly fighting."_

The grin had been replaced by a scowl after some minutes. At least Remus seemed more than a bit content about the progress. Harry wasn't able to beat them – Remus was simply too experienced and careful and Sirius nearly as fast as Harry – but they hadn't beaten him too.

"Do you need a cup of coffee, Harry?" Daphne asked with a sugary voice. "You look a bit bored."

Perhaps she was exaggerating, but Remus had to admit that Harry hadn't slowed down in the whole time and instead hit the adults more often now, with Sirius slowly losing his patience.

Another side-roll, another stinging jinx – this one hitting Remus left foot. Turning towards Sirius, Harry whirled his wand and created a cloud of sand. A second later a blinded Sirius was sitting on his back, his wand far out of reach. At least Harry had only a moment to enjoy his successful disarming spell, before Remus returned the favor. "Well done, Harry," he grinned "well done."

.

"Boring," Harry sighed, earning him a slap onto the neck from his girlfriend.

Sirius hastily switched places to get away from the girl before he agreed: "Sorry, but Harry is right. I never saw a more boring duel – or a longer one."

"Oh, I did." Harry grinned. "You should have seen the fight between Hermione and Neville. I think I even fall asleep back then." As Daphne tried to slap him again, he hastily drew her into his arms and kissed her deeply.

"Hey," Neville kicked him lightly: "No snogging."

Harry kissed Daphne on the nose before he grinned at Neville: "You're only jealous."

"And you all are only unable to see the fascination right in front of you: Two defensive casters completely on par and with such an amount of different spells."

Harry hastily turned to Sirius before he rolled his eyes. Only Daphne could share Hermione's fascination about spells like this.

The half hour of duel time was slowly nearing its end. Neither Remus nor Hermione had been able to beat their opponent. Remus knew more offensive spells and his spells were stronger. But Hermione more than made up for this with her shields. Daphne had seventeen different shielding spells marked on the paper in front of her. At least three of them she hadn't seen before. Apparently Hermione was able to counter most attacks with exact the correct shield, that was using the least amount of power to cast it. Over time Remus had lost much of his power advantage and it was only a question of time until Hermione would win simply through grinding him down.

More than one sigh of relief greeted Ana's signal. Both combatants stopped and bowed. Only now Hermione allowed herself to show signs of exhaustion. But she was smiling happily too. After all she had been able to fight Remus to a draw, the one man she viewed as her best DADA teacher so far.

"And now Daphne," Neville grinned.

Daphne shook her head, but Harry shoved her towards the pitch. "Come on, honey. It's time for old man Sirius to get his arse handed to him again."

"Old man," Sirius growled. "You were bloody lucky with that spell, Harry."

"Yeah, sure," Harry grinned. "Come on, Sirius. You're not scared of a little girl, are you?"

"Never. I only wanted to protect your girlfriend. I hope this won't get as boring as the last fight," Sirius grinned. Turning around to take his position, he wasn't aware of the evil grins behind his back. Everyone knew that he would underestimate Daphne and this could easily be his downfall.

Daphne bent down, grabbed Neville and Harry by the ear and growled. "To make this a bit more exciting: If I win, you both will stand up in the Great Hall next Friday at Lunch and sing a Serenade to Hermione and me."

Harry and Neville paled visibly. Hermione smirked: "Afraid little boys are we now?"

"Never," Harry shook his head. "I fear we'll regret this, Neville. But it's a deal."

.

If Sirius had feared to experience another defensive battle, he had to accept within moments that Daphne was very unlike Hermione in her stance. She liked to use a kind of low-powered Reducto Spells, hitting him like fist punches all over the body. Within a mere five minutes he felt at least a dozen bruises, mostly at his legs and shoulders, places unprotected by his shields. Hastily he tried to adapt, but her targeting was simply too deadly.

Like Harry she more evaded his attacks than to relay on her own shields. She was slower than Harry by far, but Sirius had to admit that he was surprised to watch her more than once react before his own spell was finished. Somehow she far too often knew which spell he intended to cast and towards which body part. Two times she used spells Remus had taught only hours ago, totally confident in her abilities to use them right now.

At least he wasn't the only one fearing slowly that he would lose this fight. Harry and Neville looked very pale and for a moment Sirius was pondering the idea to quit the fight, only to see what was at stake. _No,_ he growled silently. _I'll win this fight. One lose is really bad enough for one day_.

Increasing his attack speed he got her on the defense for a while, at least until his shoulder told him that he left himself far too open to her counter attacks. A drum appeared right beside his head and started to distract him. He dispelled the drum and glared at the girl.

Twelve minutes so far, but certainly not boring. _She can't go on like this for the whole thirty minutes_, Sirius mused.

The sand below his feet turned into quicksand. With a hasty jump he left the area, two overhasty cast spells of him completely ignored by Daphne. Sirius grinned as he landed on a stretch of land turned into polished ice_. Oh no, little miss_. With a flick of his wand he changed the soles of his shoes into glue, allowing him a sure stance. His grin broadened as he watched how Daphne lost her mood and glared at him, throwing half a dozen Reductos at him in fast order. Preparing his counter attack he used a simple shield for defense, blocking every single one of them.

"Now she goes in for the kill," Harry groaned in a whisper.

Neville nodded glumly: "We'll have to sing."

Perhaps he should have listened better to Harry's tales about his girlfriend, the only classmate able to beat him at least once in a while. Perhaps he should have spent time with Astoria like her sister did, listening to explanations about Muggle optic and weird things like 'angle of entry'. Perhaps then he would have expected her next move – or at least part of it.

A split second before Sirius started to cast his next offensive spell, Daphne suddenly thrust her wand powerful in his direction and yelled: "CRUCIO."

Totally shocked Sirius stopped all motion – needing a second to realize that the girl only yelled a word without casting anything – and allowed Daphne to follow up with two real spells. The first was another Reducto, hitting the ice just one step in front of Sirius, ricocheting from the ice to circumvent his shield and hit his knee deathly accurate with enough force to whirl Sirius around. In fact whirl him around far enough to leave his right hand wide open for the Expelliarmus that Daphne had cast, fully confident that her extremely difficult first spell would hit like expected. Still shocked Sirius went down in a heap.

"If she ever gets a Slytherin Beater position," Harry whispered only half-jokingly to Neville "I'll quit our team."

.

_**Hogwarts – Chamber of Secrets – 31**__**st**__** of May**_

.

"You battled this hideous monster …"

"… to rescue our baby sister?"

Fred and George stared at Harry with adoration clearly visible on their faces. And they weren't alone with that reaction. As arranged a group of Goblin workers had entered Hogwarts an hour ago and Harry had led them down to the chamber, together with a small number of friends and teachers. Colin was there with his camera, ready to record the moment.

The sixty feet cadaver was certainly an impressive sight. Its condition was worse than hoped but better than expected. Apparently the magic of the chamber had slowed down the process of withering a bit.

"The organs will be beyond usability," Professor Snape explained calmly to Penelope Clearwater – his assistant teacher obviously not really listening to him but instead staring at the dead beast. "But the bones will be usable, the teeth as well and perhaps we can extract a bit of its poison. And naturally there is the hide."

Harry nodded. He had arranged with the Goblins to sell the greater part of the hide. Only a few square yards would stay at Hogwarts – to craft some pairs of protective gloves – and an equal amount would wind up in his vault, together with a tooth. "The poison will be yours, Professor. And perhaps we could place a canine tooth with a poster photo somewhere at Hogwarts."

"We'll find a place, Mister Potter." Minerva McGonagall was one of the few visitors who at least appeared to be untroubled by the sight. Quite contrary to Roxanne, Hermione – who stared terrified at Harry's former opponent and clung to Neville's arm with a death grip – and Daphne. Suddenly his girlfriend stepped back and slapped the back of Harry's head – hard – two times.

"Ouch! What was that for?"

"I just remembered how crazy you have been back then, coming down into the chamber to battle this beast."

"Daphne – I had to." Harry pleaded and gave her his best puppy-eyed look.

Daphne growled. "Yes, but you could have prepared yourself. You knew what monster would be down here. Hermione had already solved that riddle. You should have found a way to protect your eyes BEFORE going down here instead of forcing that useless travesty of a teacher to accompany you." Someone snickered. No, Gilderoy Lockhart certainly didn't have many fans at Hogwarts anymore.

Harry gasped as he realized that Daphne was crying now, simply from the emotion of the risk he had undergone years ago. "You can't be so careless. Haven't the years with Hermione taught you anything about preparation? You git … prat … moron … jackass …" Every curse was accompanied by a hit of her tiny fist on his chest. "You can't risk your life …"

Harry stopped her the only way he knew: He kissed her senseless. At the beginning Daphne tried to resist, wanted to go on with her scolding. But after a while she melted into his embrace and relaxed. When the kiss ended, she put her head on his shoulder and whispered: "You still were a careless idiot back then."

"I know," Harry grinned. "But I try to learn."

"In a way," Neville suddenly interjected "it was Hermione's fault."

"What?" His girlfriend glared, but Neville didn't stop. "Every time Harry or Ron did something stupid in the past, she yelled at them. By the end of the first year she should have known, that this wouldn't help. Apparently a nice smack has a better effect on Harry."

Harry grinned at him. "It's not only the smack, Neville. It is the inspiration too." He put a small kiss on Daphne's cheek. "You know: With carrot and stick … or in our case with kiss and smack … you're getting the best results."

"I'll have that in mind," Hermione declared, looking at Neville with a mischievous smile.

.

_**Hogwarts – Dorm of the Charms Teacher**_

.

She felt so stupid.

_How could I behave like that in the chamber … so little-girl-like?_

Had it been a result of her emotions in the past days? Like her mother Daphne had been terrified to hear about the false Moody and his plan to get Harry into the tournament. Since then her fantasy had been busy to show her all kind mental pictures about possible outcomes of the whole story. Most of them ended with Harry hurt, maimed or killed in many ways. More than once she had fantasized about knocking him out on the day of the task and hid him until it was over.

And then they entered the chamber.

Harry had told her about the Basilisk, but like Hermione she had no real imagination how huge this beast was until she saw it herself: Sixty feet – more than the smaller ballroom at Pinegrew Manor – weighing more than an elephant and with canine teeth appropriate to craft a dagger. Her mind stopped to work when she tried to imagine Harry, armed only with a sword, struggling to evade the beast's attacks until he was ready to strike it down.

Why had the creature still been at Hogwarts? Fifty years ago it had been active for the first time. Hagrid had been blamed for the attacks back then – like this time too. What a silly idea. Dumbdork should have known better. Hagrid was far too soft to hurt anyone and he loved his creatures with all of his mighty heart. And how stupid was it to think an Acromantula could have been the culprit. Hello? Acromantula – petrification – coherence anywhere? Hermione had been able to solve the riddle within months, but Dumbdork was unable to do the same in decades?

"Bloody …"

"Stupid …"

"Careless …"

"Head-Dork"

Every curse against Dumbledore was accompanied by another kick against one of her mother's trunks. Daphne didn't feel the pain in her foot or notice the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"He shouldn't have been in that danger," she whispered.

Suddenly she felt the arms of her mother around her shoulders. Roxanne didn't say a word, only allowed her troubled daughter to show her emotions.

"I could have lost him back then, mum. I could have lost him before I had a chance to meet him for real. Never a chance to speak with him … never a chance to show him that I don't think the same I did a year ago … never a chance to dance with him or tell him that I love him."

She hiccupped and leaned against her mother. But only seconds later a new wave of rage burned through her heart. "And all this happened only because we had the most incompetent Headmaster in the history of Hogwarts. It could only happen because this brainless artard thought it would be a splendid idea to leave trolls, basilisk and maniacs to a bunch of teenagers to handle."

With a start Daphne left her mother's embrace and began to kick the trunk for real.

"You … awful … heartless … puppet … master"

She was yelling full force now and slowly the wood of the trunk relented to the force of her kicks – like the bones in her foot.

"If you ever endanger him again, Dumbdork, I'll kick your arse up to your gums. And after that I'll feed your pieces to Lucius bloody wanker Malfoy, who should burn in hell for what he did."

Perhaps Roxanne should have been shocked by the outburst, but it only proved to her how much Daphne was her daughter and Agatha's granddaughter. So she only bowed down to her, Daphne now leaning exhausted over the beaten trunk, still crying. "We should get you to the Hospital Wing, dear: To look after your foot."

Daphne looked up, for a while not comprehending what her mother was speaking about. Examining her injured foot, she nodded, smiling weakly. "Okay," she whispered. Then, as an afterthought she asked: "Could you call Ana? I need to speak with her."

Dumbledore had endangered Harry far too often in the past. And Daphne wasn't convinced that he had no part in this new danger at the third task. But this time she would be there to protect him.

.

_**Hogwarts – Gryffindor girls' dorm – 2**__**nd**__** of June – Friday afternoon**_

.

"Oh, that was so romantic," Parvati sighed. She had followed Hermione into their dorm together with Lavender, the whole time sighing and making doe-eyes.

Hermione felt a bit sick. She should have stopped Daphne, she really should have known better. No, it wasn't romantic. It wasn't even meant to be. Romantic it would have been to spend an evening with Neville on a balcony, a silvery moon above them and then her boyfriend singing that Serenade. But certainly not in the Great Hall in front of three hundred students.

But she had to admit that he had been really brave. His voice was a bit shaken at the beginning, but he had a far better voice than Harry. No wonder – somehow Harry had inherited the creepy voice of the Pinegrew family, if that was possible through adoption.

At least she had survived the ordeal and now she had a chance to do something essential. Daphne and she had planned to train with the boys this weekend, but Harry had surprised them with his own ideas.

"_Neville and I will be okay. We'll ask Mother to train with us and perhaps Tonks. You two … you learned far too little for the exams next week. We want you to spend the next days repeating the stuff. You know you want it."_

Naturally he had been right. Hermione would have neglected the exams in his favor – at least they were only fourth year exams, not something important like OWLs. But still both girls would have felt uneasy about it. It was simply too weird for them not to learn until the last moment. Only three days until the exams started. Harry would only take the test at Ancient Runes, but Daphne and she would face a whopping ten subjects – eleven if they counted Muggle Lore too. They hadn't chosen the subject but still intended to try to make the OWL test next year.

No, Hermione smiled softly. The Serenade hadn't been romantic. But their boyfriends allowing – no: Urging – them to prepare for the exams: That was romantic.

.

_**A/N**_

_The part about __**Filch**__ isn't really important right now. But I want to continue that idea in the sequel and thought he should use the time of the summer break for some exercise. And with Dudley using the book it wasn't too farfetched to think about other squibs too._

_And now, ladies and gentlemen, it's time for the __**third task**__._


	47. Chapter 47 The third Task (1)

**The third Task (Part 1)**

_**(Hogwarts – 21**__**st**__** of June)**_

.

_**An unwelcome visitor**_

.

_Shouldn't I simply kill her?_ He wondered, staring down on the young woman he just put into the broom closet. She was an enemy and belonged to the blood traitor. But still she was a Black in a way, a Black with a unique talent. _No_, he decided at last. _I'll let her live. The master will decide her fate. Perhaps she'll have her uses for him_. The master had never been especially picky about his tools and a Metamorph certainly was a powerful tool. Perhaps she could be swayed or blackmailed to join their side.

Septima Vektor's body bent down and her slender hand patted the cheek of the unconscious woman. _Sleep well_, he grinned. _We'll meet again, I'm certain. And thank you for your hair_.

After putting some of her hairs into the potion, he gulped it down, changing his appearance for the second time today. It had been easy the evening before to knock out the careless Arithmancy teacher in her room; and even easier it had been this morning to lure the young Auror away 'to meet the Headmaster for a last talk before the task'. _They're all so gullible_, he sniggered. _They'll never learn until they die_. He sniggered, thinking about the Goblet and how the 'good people' would lollygag to examine it, overlooking the real danger that was hovering above them.

After a last look around he closed the door and locked it magically. Nymphadora Tonks would never know how close to death she had been at this moment. It was time for a bit of fun_. And then_, he grinned evilly, _it was time for changing the history_.

.

_**Aunt and Niece**_

.

"I'm so dead," Ana groaned. The Spanish lady walked at Daphne's side and looked remarkable pale at the moment.

"I'm sorry, Auntie. I shouldn't have pressed you to cast the spell."

Daphne felt bad and happy at the same time: Bad because she had cajoled Ana into casting the spell, but happy because she felt a bit securer now, her heart not as heavy as three weeks ago. Three weeks ago, after getting that call from Roxanne, Ana had visited her favorite niece in the Hospital Wing. Daphne, who had to spend the night there to allow her broken foot some healing time, told her about her fears, told her that she wanted to protect Harry in any way possible. In the end Ana had agreed to help. The most important step had been the preparation of a unique ritual. Daphne knew neither the name nor the details of that ritual. All she cared for was the result.

Since casting the spell five days ago she was able to feel Harry. It was like a constant and very strong mind link. Ana had explained that it would last another two days after the task, but that was more than enough. It was one-sided to avoid irritating or distracting Harry, but Daphne was now able to concentrate on his senses, to see and hear what Harry felt, to feel what he felt. She would know instantly when he was injured. Harry had allowed this spell, even welcomed it to Daphne's surprise. But it had only been proof of their mutual trust and it had deepened their relationship even more. Not only was she able to 'see', 'hear' and 'feel' herself through Harry's senses, but she also got to know how her boyfriend felt in those moments he hugged her, caressed or kissed her. If she ever had the tiniest doubts about his emotions, they were gone now. She hoped that there would be a chance to cast the spell a second time, this time allowing Harry to feel Daphne's emotions.

Ana, Daphne and Harry were the only ones to know about the spell. Not even her mum and grandma they had told about it – but Daphne assumed that her grandma had at least a hunch. The one problem about the spell was: Ana wasn't normally allowed to use it on Harry and Daphne. This variation was a higher secret of the Congregation and according to her not even Agatha could cast it. If the rest of the Congregation learned about it, she was in deep trouble. This was the reason for Daphne to feel bad about it, despite her other side that was very relieved to be this near to Harry at least in her mind.

"That's not what is troubling me, Daphne," Ana soothed her. "I won't get more than some harsh words from the others – I hope." She smiled shortly and not totally convincing. "You know, I lost my husband – your Uncle Albert – in the war against you-know-who. Hardly a day goes by without me thinking about him, without me wishing I would have done more to protect him back then. If you want to protect Harry, I'll help you in any way possible. 'He' and his scum won't get a single member of our family again."

Daphne throw herself at her favorite Aunt and hugged her heartily, "Thank you, Auntie."

Ana patted her. "It's nothing, dear." She sighed: "But I'm still so dead … at least if your mother gets to know that I taught you how to apparate, two years before you're allowed to learn it."

Daphne tried in vain to hide her proud smile. It had begun with Ana training Daphne to lead her towards Harry using the mindlink as a path, serving as a kind of guide to the apparating Ana. But she hadn't stopped there. Still feeling uneasy she had harassed her aunt, pleaded, begged, and puppy-eyed until Ana had relented. She had shown Daphne the technique and now she was able to securely apparate for a dozen steps at least. Anything farther away was extremely difficult and dangerous. And even this small amount had only been possible because Ana relying heavily on the Mindlink to teach her and Daphne's ability to focus her magic in her own, soft way.

"Don't forget: You promised to use it only in life-threatening situations. And you won't teach it to anyone, not even Harry, without my consent." Daphne nodded, but Ana repeated: "It is really dangerous, Daphne." Daphne nodded again, this time more determinedly: "I won't forget it. I promise."

.

_**Beware of the Muggles**_

.

"I have to tell you, Cyrus: Your dear wife is obviously lacking in taste regarding the people she chooses to spend time with."

Lucius Malfoy watched the group around Roxanne Greengrass and Agatha Pinegrew with no small amount of disgust. A few of the people near the ladies belonged to 'the right kind' – despite Augusta Longbottom's political preferences she was at least a member of an old pureblood family – but four of them paraded their Muggle clothes far too openly for his taste. The boy he didn't recognize but everyone knew Petunia Dursley now. Or was it Petunia Evans? Severus had told something about a divorce. And the pair of adults seemed to be the parents of that Granger girl. At least the woman had the same horrid hairs of her daughter. And the werewolf shouldn't even be allowed on the grounds of Hogwarts anymore, in his opinion.

Little did he know that it had been Augusta who invited the Grangers to accompany her to the grounds, allowing them to watch something that hadn't happened for decades and especially enabling them to be there for their troubled daughter. Hermione wasn't as bad as Daphne in her concern about Harry – and to a lesser degree Fleur and Cedric – but certainly bad enough.

"Over there would be a fine place," Lucius pointed towards a part of the tribune near the Parkinsons and far away from this riff-raff. Without waiting for an answer he herded his small group in that direction, when Severus curtly stated: "I'll follow you in a few minutes." Lucius sighed as he watched his friend walking towards Roxanne's group, Astoria – who left Draco after a hasty kiss to his cheek at Lucius' side – and Narcissa following him. Shaking his head sadly, he gestured Cyrus and Draco to follow him and continued his walk: "Women!"

.

"I expect you to prepare in an adequate manner this summer, Miss Granger. I won't tolerate anything less than straight 'O' from you in your potion OWL class." Despite his glare and his iron voice Hermione was surprised to experience her potion teacher this polite – polite at least according to his usual behavior. He had even been friendly to her parents. Only Remus had been ignored – more or less – and the looks he shared with Petunia weren't of the most kindly sort.

"I'll do my best, Professor."

"I expect no less, Miss Granger. And now – Roxanne: I wish you a nice day." He hesitated for a moment, before he added with a lower and surprisingly caring voice: "All will be fine with him, Roxanne."

Roxanne stared at him for a moment, before she nodded with a weak smile. "Thank you, Severus."

.

"He really doesn't like you, Petunia." Remus grinned.

Petunia shrugged, pulling her son to her side to give him a one-armed hug. Dudley smiled. He really enjoyed this experience and hoped to see this place again, watching one of those famous Quidditch games. "We hated each other with a passion twenty years ago and I see no reason why this should change. He was a bastard back then and he is a bastard now. Perhaps he's a bit less bastardly these days, but certainly not someone I would invite to cake and tea."

"I know what you mean," Remus grinned. "At least he and I are now able to communicate without insulting each other. It's an improvement. Perhaps I should pity him more, because of how we treated him as teenagers, or because of Dumbledore's messing with his mind. But he has been an ass to generations of Gryffindor students and especially to Harry, only because he looked like James. I can't forgive him that."

Petunia was silent for a while. With an insecure voice she explained at last: "And I treated him bad because of his mother. He didn't deserve it. I hope one day he'll forgive me those years in my house."

"I'm sure he will," Remus responded with a soft smile. "He has a great heart and the months with Daphne and Roxanne helped him much to grow up. And you kneeing Dumbledore certainly impressed him."

Petunia blushed as she remembered that moment, but Dudley – not for the first time – wished he would have been there.

.

"Please stay here with your parents, Hermione," Roxanne commanded with a no-nonsense voice. "And have an eye on Petunia and Dudley. We'll be over there."

Hermione wasn't happy about the separation from the Pinegrew ladies. She sensed that there was something going on. Daphne was far too tense and several times she had concentrated on something. It couldn't be her link to Harry – her boyfriend was too far away for that – but what else could it be? But she relented. At least her parents and her boyfriend would be here. For a second she felt pity for Neville's arm. Certainly he'll have some bruises after the task. But: Wasn't it his duty as her boyfriend to be her rock in the storms of her emotions? With a sigh she snuggled up to Neville's side, ignoring his blush and the look her mother exchanged with the Longbottom matriarch.

.

_**Constructive Cooperation**_

.

"Blasted British Ministry," Ana growled. Together with Roxanne, Agatha and Daphne she was sitting on the left-most part of the tribune and watching the Aurors and Officials who had gathered all around the place. "They didn't allow me to bring along a few colleagues of mine. And why has it to be Tonks who watches him and not me?" She snarled shortly. "At least he has the portkey." _And the link to Daphne_, Ana thought.

Roxanne nodded and patted her shoulder. She had been relieved when Ana exchanged Harry's belt buckle for another one that worked as a portkey as well. Regretfully the other jurors hadn't allowed Ana to be Harry's guardian during the task. It had been difficult enough for Filius to replace the assigned teacher with the young, trustworthy Auror. It had hardly been a surprise that the DMLE wasn't eager to endure Spanish colleagues. Loss of face was apparently more important than security.

For a moment she shuddered as she looked up. Up there in the sky was something she hadn't expected to see again at Hogwarts – not after the disaster of the last year. But Minister Fudge had shown his lack of willingness to learn from the past and stationed a score of Dementors above the maze. _If they hurt my children in any way, Fudge_, Roxanne promised, _I'll put you in a toffee tin_.

.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!"

Slowly the noise level went down and everybody turned towards the pedestal where Ludo Bagman was standing, presenting them his most splendid smile. He was surrounded by the other four jurors, a small number of especially important guests – like the Ministers of Magic from Britain, France and Bulgaria – and a far larger number of journalists. Normally the small frames of Luna Lovegood and Colin Creevey would have been lost among the far senior 'colleagues', but everyone tried to stay out of their way and not to annoy them. Nobody wanted to be on the bad side of the boy who was the only one allowed of taking photos of Harry and Cedric, nobody wanted to provoke the journalist who had been able to interview the Champions more than once. Even Rita Skeeter behaved, apart from a few glares.

The Basilisk pictures – shown to the publicity in the newest Quibbler together with some interviews of Harry and his friends as well as the parents of the affected students – had caused quite some uproar. How could such a beast sneak around Hogwarts unmolested for months? Why had it to be a teenager to disable this danger?

"_I'm especially furious," Mrs. Emma Granger, mother of the well-known Hermione Granger, told the Quibbler "because not only was my daughter petrified for months without any intent to heal her as fast as possible. No, the then-Headmaster didn't even bother to inform me about those events. Luckily Hermione is now the magical ward of Lady Longbottom, but this can't be the solution for every muggle-born student. I expect the school staff, the board of governors and the Ministry to do a better job at protecting our children in the future." _

At least the school now had a new attraction in form of a wall-sized photo and a showcase with the Basilisk canine tooth.

Harry sighed as he noticed not too far away from the pedestal the 'Trio of Doom': The most honorable bringer of light-headedness and giddiness Albus yackety-yak Dumbledore, Percy 'I-eat-a-stick-every-morning' Weatherby and Dolores 'I-have-absolutely-no-taste-in-clothes' Umbitch. Wasn't there any way to goad them into the maze? Perhaps some of the beasts were hungry enough to make the world a happier place.

"Behind us you see the maze that has been created for the third task. It has been filled with all kind of obstacles: Animals, plants, riddles and traps. Our four Champions will have to find their way through this maze, to overcame any obstacle and reach the center of the maze where the Goblet of Fire will be waiting for them. The first one to lay his or her hands on the Goblet will be the winner. To consider the results of the first two tests, they'll start in a specific order: Mister Diggory will be the first to enter the maze."

Cedric turned towards the audience and most of them cheered, the Hufflepuffs especially frenetic.

"After some minutes Mister Viktor Krum will follow him."

Viktor showed his best victory pose but the cheering was much more subdued.

"And at last Miss Fleur Delacour and Mister Harry Potter will start."

There weren't so many cheering as for Cedric, but they certainly made up for numbers with enthusiasm.

"Everybody has a chance and we will watch how they fare against their obstacles. Like we did at the second task, there will be a way for you to watch them. Every Champion will be followed by a teacher with a pair of camera goggles. They are not allowed to interfere unless there is a grave danger. The Champions are only allowed to use their wands: No other magical items, no accioed brooms."

Harry sighed again. As feared he wasn't allowed to wear his bracelet. That they wouldn't tolerate a broom was no surprise. It would obliterate the whole sense of the maze, wouldn't it?

"The obstacles in this task are the mentioned animals and riddles, not the other Champions. While it would be unsportsmanlike behavior to use spells on the other Champions, it is allowed to do so – but only to hinder them, not to cause severe injuries."

_So it will be okay for Viktor to stun me and get his revenge for the second task_, Harry realized. _I'll have to be especially careful_. He noticed that Viktor showed a very serious expression. _He really wants to win today_.

"Be careful, Cedric," Harry whispered. "And you too, Fleur. You know I'm not very good at soothing little crying girls." Fleur glanced towards the tribune where her mother and sister were watching and nodded with a small smile. The absence of her father was noticeable. But in his stead Claire Roussevalle was at her mother's side. Since her schoolmate had taken the place of her little sister at the second task, the Delacours had taken Claire under their wings. Her mother had invited Claire to spend the summer with them and her father – eager to get into his family's graces again – had paid for her last school year. Her mother hadn't accepted his apology so far, but perhaps he would be allowed back into the master bedroom after the tournament.

Before he followed the other Champions to the starting position, Harry turned for a last time towards his family and showed them a confident smile. In his thoughts he concentrated on the same feelings. _Everything will turn out alright, Daphne._

.

_**Starting Shot**_

.

Daphne sighed and sat down at her mother's side, shortly sending her a smile as Roxanne put an arm around her shoulders. She didn't want to watch the screen, she didn't need it. Instead she closed her eyes and listened to the heart beat of her boyfriend. With her eyes closed Daphne didn't notice the thoughtful look of her mother or the frown on her grandma's face.

With Cedric and Viktor being ahead a few minutes, Harry and Fleur had parted ways after they entered the maze: A last smile and a last wave before they lost sight of each other. Harry felt surprisingly calm. Knowing that Daphne was with him and Tonks was watching him, helped tremendously. But he really hoped that Tonks hadn't to do anything. If she interfered, it meant that he had failed at the task, that he had lost the tournament. So, hopefully, she would only follow him and enjoy the show.

.

_**Harry**_

In contrary to Viktor, who had sprinted into the maze like mad, Harry was far more cautious. His primary objective was to survive this task; his desire to win wasn't very strong in comparison. He hoped that Cedric would win, even if this meant that Ana would lose her bet. Harry still thought Cedric to be the most worthy of the Champions, the most all-around capable wizard among them. Looking around carefully, he noticed the plants around him, hearing in his mind the voice of Neville explaining him how to distinguish the harmless from the dangerous or the helpful ones, while he searched for signs of any creatures nearby.

_Tracks_, Harry noticed. _Blast-ended Skrewts_, he groaned after a moment of pondering. Harry knew the form of their foot-prints far too well after the hours with Hagrid, walking the dangerous animals for weeks. He didn't wish to confront such a beast now. Only a few had survived the term, but they had reached a size comparable to a full-grown horse. Turning around to find another way, he noticed a Gingerboar Plant. _What had Neville told me about this plant?_ Harry's concentration went downhill as he heard at least one of those Skrewts nearing him. _Think, Harry, think_.

Hastily he pointed his wand towards the plants and cast a number of drought charms. The plants instantly shriveled and formed back, allowing Harry to pass them and enter a new part of the maze. _The Skrewts are nearly here_.

"Aguamenti!" He could already see the pair of Skrewts, when the newly wet plants slunk back into their old place again, barring the beasts from following him. "Thank you, Neville."

.

_Nice move_, he thought, looking down onto his 'ward'. _A wise warrior avoids needless fights_. Because of his goggles it would be impossible to help the boy. So he simply had to watch and wait. But so far Potter didn't seem to need any help.

For a moment he thought about simply floating down and activating his own portkey. But he wasn't sure how the boy would react, with his adrenalin rushing through his body. And, he had to admit, he was anxious to see how the boy fared. After all his efforts it would be a bit vexing to stop the boy now before the end.

_Go, Potter, go_, he smiled. _We'll meet at the end_.

.

_**Fleur**_

_A weird_ place, Fleur mused. Cautiously she was standing at the edge of a small clearing. It was far hotter here than a score steps back and the reason was right in front of her. Narrow gravel paths crossed it, passed a number of small 'ponds' of live coal. Four stone figures – each representing one of the houses – embellished the place. She had a hunch what kind of creature would be hiding in the coal and she really didn't like the idea to confront them openly. Remembering how Cedric had won against the dragon, the French witch decided to better be careful here and allow some other 'creature' to take the first step.

_Cedric is a Hufflepuff, so I'll choose the Badger_. With a wave of her wand she forced the Badger statue to leave its place. She wasn't as good as Cedric in Transfiguration, so she didn't change the statue's nature, but only charmed it to be able to move. Slowly it walked around, following the paths Fleur wanted to use too. Suddenly but not surprisingly a handful of smaller Salamanders left the coal ponds and attacked the intruder.

_Have fun and don't lose your teeth_, Fleur grinned. Swiftly but carefully, she used a path at the edges of the clearing; a minute later she felt the security of the maze again. She knew that she was the underdog in this task in comparison to Cedric and Viktor. But still she would do her best, simply to be able to look into her own mirror image after this ordeal. Fleur sighed.

_I already hate this place._

.

_Claire would have done better._

Mistress Ancuille, Potion Mistress of Beauxbatons and Fleur's assigned guardian teacher, hovered above the girl. She despised the Delacour family with all her heart. The family was tainted through non-human blood. _She should never have been allowed to put her name into the goblet. She'll fail and stain the proud name of our academy. I hope she dies to give other dirty Veelas a sign: You're unworthy. _

.

_**Viktor**_

_I'm the best. I'm the strongest. I will win. _Viktor sensed the eyes of Teacher Poliakoff above him. He would wear his usual disgusted expression, the same he wore every time Viktor was unable to solve something at the first try. _I won't fail_.

In the last moment Viktor dodged the charge of the rhino-like Erumpent.

It wasn't the first charge and certainly not the last. He had been surprised to see a creature as dangerous as an Erumpent in the maze. It wasn't fully grown but its horn certainly large enough to drill quite a hole into his chest. Until now it had simply ignored every single spell Viktor had cast. Even the Conjunctivitis hadn't been enough to stop it, perhaps because its eye-sight was already very bad from the start and it depended more on its olfactory sense.

_This takes too long. I have to hurry. I have to fetch that blasted bastard. _The hate he felt every time thinking about Cedric burnt through his body. For a moment a tiny voice told him, that it was false to feel like that, but within seconds his other half shoved away all compassion_. I'll beat him_.

Viktor harrumphed loathly. He liked to out power his adversaries, but this beast was simply too strong. He had to use a girly approach, an approach worthy of worthless Fleur. Viktor grimaced. Casting a cloud of noxious fumes behind him, he waited for the next charge. Another dodge would leave the Erumpent in the middle of the fumes, distracting and confusing it. Together with the Conjunctivitis it would be enough to make it harmless despite all its might.

_I'll never allow the same to happen to me._

.

_He'll succeed_, Poliakoff pondered.

_There can be no other winner. I've made sure of this_. The teacher grinned evilly. He wasn't aware that some of his darker thoughts weren't his own, wasn't aware how easy it had been to influence him. Only one thing was important: That Durmstrang would win this tournament.

.

_**Cedric**_

_Nice, Madam Sprout, very nice indeed_, Cedric sighed after a single look at the path. There was a very small clearing with a young sprig of the Whomping Willow blocking the way. It had not even half the height of the original tree but its branches looked powerful enough to be hurtful still. _I'll never understand her enthusiasm for plants_. But apparently it was something very Hufflepuff. According to the books Helga Hufflepuff had been the same and Madam Sprout's favorite student – Neville Longbottom – showed the signs too. A short smile crossed his face as he thought about his new friend, the ultimate Hufflepuff indeed.

_Viktor would certainly use a fire spell_, Cedric grimaced. _It's his way to deal with a dangerous plant. But what did Harry say about the other Willow?_

Feeling secure where he stood, Cedric tried hard to remember the story about the last year. _"There is a special spot, a root near the ground. Even Crookshanks was able to stop the Willow from hitting around by touching it."_

To his regret there were several root knots visible and he certainly hadn't the intention to walk near enough to try every single one of them. So instead Cedric collected a number of stones and used his magic to press them against those spots: One unsuccessful attempt, a second and a third … had he remembered it wrong? Suddenly the willow stopped to move as the fourth stone hit the right-most root knot. With a sigh and a quick prayer, the Champion of Hogwarts hurried forward. _Please stay still_.

.

_**A way of my very own**_

.

_I've been lucky_, Harry sighed as he noticed the lesser degree of burns on his skin. _I've to ask Neville about that plant. Good that I noticed it soon enough_.

After a careful look around to make sure that he was secure at the moment, Harry started to use one of the healing spells Daphne taught him. He was not nearly as talented at them as her, but for now it would be enough. Slowly the pain faded and the ugly red spots lost their color. It was still distracting but far better now than minutes ago. The plant had looked like a normal stinging nettle, but the reaction of his skin had been far stronger. Content with his healing spells, Harry looked around for another time and noticed a strange smell.

_Cat?_

His wand ready to defend himself, Harry slowly walked towards the next edge of the hedge. _I won't be so lucky to find only a house cat_, he grinned without humor. _Oh, no!_ Harry paled. No, this impressive creature certainly wasn't a house cat. The body of a lion with strong legs and dagger-like claws was fearsome enough. But the wings and the head – similar to a woman's – made it quite clear: It was riddle-time now. At least he hoped that Hermione had been right about Sphinxes loving riddles far more than physical fights.

_She's grinning_, Harry groaned. _I hope she's not able to read my mind_.

Her grin deepened. "I see you prepared especially for me. I'm flattered. Let's see if you're able to solve my little riddles."

Lowering his wand Harry step forward and bowed slightly. "I'm happy to see you, milady. Without your appearance a part of my training would have been all for naught. This would certainly depress a very good friend of mine."

The Sphinx' smile only deepened. "Then let's start:

"What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?"

Harry blinked. He had expected some very difficult and perhaps ambiguous riddles. This one was nearly too easy, but perhaps only because he had used the questioned item far too often this year. He tried to sound self-confident when he answered: "A towel."

"Very good, let's continue with the second one:

"What can you catch but not throw?"

Being the Quidditch player he was, Harry lost quite a few minutes thinking about possible solutions around sport. The whole time Daphne had to forcefully control her mind, not to involuntarily send him the solution. She shouldn't be able to reach him, but she had to be careful. The frown on her grandma's face deepened only, until Harry suddenly slapped his forehead.

"It's a cold."

The Sphinx nodded slightly: "Well solved again. Now the last one:

"What's black and white and red all over?"

Daphne paled. She had no idea what this could be. Harry faced the same problem, but he had a small advantage: The Sphinx tried really hard to stay calm and her face bland, but he nearly felt the laugh rippling through her body. _This is a joke riddle_.

His mind now running in a totally different direction than before, he didn't need long before he showed the Sphinx his own smile: "A sunburned Penguin."

The Sphinx stared at him for a while, Daphne and the whole audience watching anxiously for her reaction. Then, suddenly, she started to chuckle: "The solution should have been a red painted Zebra, but I like your humor. So a sunburned Penguin it will be. Farewell, Harry Potter, you may pass."

Frenetic cheering from the tribune accompanied Harry as he started to walk pass the Sphinx, as she suddenly stopped him: "Unless you want to solve another riddle."

Harry stopped and stared at her in confusion.

"If you don't solve it, you aren't allowed to pass. But if you're successful, I'll have a message for your little riddle friend. It is your decision, Harry Potter. What shall it be: Pass or riddle?"

"Idiot," Daphne growled without waiting for the answer she knew Harry would give, looking down not to show her smile too openly.

"Riddle!"

Daphne groaned and leaned against her mother's shoulder. "It's Harry, dear," Roxanne tried to soothe her. Agatha only sniggered.

"The man who invented it doesn't want it. The man who bought it doesn't need it. The man who needs it doesn't know it. What is it?"

Harry sighed in relief. This was easy again. Perhaps the Sphinx really liked him and it had been more a test of morals and friendship? But how could he pass a chance of returning the help Luna had given so freely?

"It's a coffin."

The Sphinx bowed again: "You're right. And here is the message:

"What she searched on Iceland last summer wasn't there because they like to visit volcano eruptions. Instead they had been at Mount Etna. And this year she should think about a visit to the Ruapehu."

Harry stared at her for a long time. Could it be? Luna had been searching – again – for the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks. She had been very disappointed not to see them on Iceland. But now the Sphinx not only gave her a hint of their location. With this sentence she additionally confirmed the very existence of these creatures. He smiled openly and stepped forward. The Sphinx frowned, Daphne grimaced and every spectator paled as the boy hugged the magical beast. "Thank you so much. I'll tell her about it. You made a wonderful girl very happy today."

A few hundred steps away a bushy-haired girl grabbed the arm of her boyfriend and shook him. "Hugging a Sphinx, hugging a Sphinx. I can't believe it."

Neville shrugged with a grin: "At least he didn't try to ride on her back."

.

"Blasted!"

Harry stared at the path in front of him, while a quarter mile away Hermione tried to get a sensible answer from her boyfriend about the nature of this plant. Long, thin branches with razor sharp thorns whirled back and forth, eager to hit everyone stupid enough to step into their range. Since he passed the Sphinx there hadn't been another usable branch of the path.

_Why has it to be plants every time? The Gingerboar, the Willow and in the first year there was the Devil's snare. I hate plants._

Harry wrestled with the question: Walk back or somehow find a way through this plant. What kind of plant was it? Blue-red striped blossoms, branches with thorns – he had the faintest impression that Neville spoke about it. Perhaps it was one of the more than fifty plants he had described as possible obstacles and enemies in this course.

_I don't want to go back, _Harry decided_. I passed the Sphinx and I'll pass this damned plant_. Sitting on the ground he used one of his new meditation techniques to calm down. Slowly the picture of the list Neville had given to him appeared in his mind. Name after name, description after description, his mind went through the list. Blue-red striped blossom – there: _Dragoneer Hunters_. Harry groaned as slowly the text of the description became clear to him. _How could she choose this plant?_ Not only the thorns were worthy weapons, but the blossoms were able to hurl tiny poisonous needles and apparently she was mostly immune to fire.

_There has to be a weakness,_ Harry decided. _They wouldn't put such a plant in our path without a way to overcome it_. Slowly he went through a number of Charms. Gingerboar had reacted to dryness, Devil's Snare to light. Dragoneer Hunters existed in the farthest-northern parts of Russia and Scandinavia. They loved the long, bright summers and endured the equally long, dark winters through …

Harry jumped up: "NOX!"

Darkness enveloped the plants and instantly they began to shrink back. Grinning shortly Harry waited for some seconds before he rushed forward, casting another Nox while running and a third one while he was already in the darkness himself. _Please, path, don't make a turn_.

.

Two score steps later he left the darkness again, happy to have evaded these evil plants. His happiness lasted only seconds, exactly long enough to take in the sight in front of him. A small clearing, meandering paths, four stone statues like the ones on the place Fleur had encountered a while ago. This all was fine and well so far. What troubled Harry and disturbed the romantic impression a bit was the creature in the middle of the clearing. With the sun shining down on its fur, a warm stone slab under its belly, and the scorpion tail whirling around, the juvenile Manticore stared at Harry with hungry eyes.

"Hagrid, you're a really good friend, one of my oldest. But sometimes I hate you," Harry pressed through his clenched jaws.

The Manticore wasn't much larger than a sheepdog and the wings apparently had been clipped. _So it won't be able to fly at least_, Harry sighed. _Perhaps it likes jokes_. "Mione, didn't you tell me something about 'there won't be Manticores at the maze, they're too dangerous'?" Harry spoke to the empty place, assuming that Tonks' goggles would transfer his words to his best friend.

Slowly the Manticore left its place and sneaked nearer to its meal. Despite its juvenile age and small size, the claws, teeth and the tail would be more than enough to kill him. "They're immune against most spells from the start," Harry recited what he remembered about the creature: "How wonderful to know."

Despite his grumbles Harry already had a plan. For a short moment a smile played around his lips. "Hermione: Never again I'll complain about you forcing me to work on a backup plan. Daphne: Thank you for the patience to teach me this spell." Knowing that he wouldn't be able to transform the statues like Cedric did or to charm them like Fleur, he chose a completely different way:

"Avis!"

Like he had seen six months ago at the wand examination, a flock of small birds left the tip of his wand and attacked the Manticore. His magical immunity didn't help against dozens of small claws and beaks. Hastily Harry stepped aside as the tormented creature jumped away and left the clearing, angrily followed by the magical birds.

"Have fun," Harry grinned. Swiftly he crossed the clearing and blocked the exit through a new cloud of especially noxious smoke. "Nice spell, Fred," Harry mumbled low enough to prevent anybody from hearing the words.

_I hope this will end soon._

.

_**The Desire to Win**_

.

_She doesn't deserve to be here._

Viktor passed the maze in a hurry, ignoring the small cuts and bruises from his last fight. It would cause trouble later that he had killed the Cerberus, but he wasn't here to play nice. He was here to win.

_She doesn't deserve to be here._

Champion was the word. Champion, not Championess, not kid Champion, only Champion. It was hard enough to accept Potter among them, but the girl … her participation was despicable. At Durmstrang they had realized that only men were worthy of real magical education. Girls had to attend one of the lesser schools – like Beauxbatons or Hogwarts. This alone showed clearly that the winner of this tournament had to be the Champion of Durmstrang.

_She doesn't deserve to be here._

He had been the best player on the field at the Quidditch finals. But Quidditch was a team game, so he had been unable to win alone. But this time he could prove them all that Viktor Krum was the best. No lesser team would hold him back; no weak rules deny him to do what he wanted. And certainly no girl would steal his victory.

His eyes resting on the slim form of Fleur Delacour he slowed down, his wand drawn.

_I'll show you who the real Champion is at this tournament._

.

Exhausted Cedric slumped down to the ground. The cut send racking pains through his body. _I should have been more careful_. But there was no use of self-blaming now. Remembering the spell he had learned two weeks ago, he closed the cut and after a few minutes the pains subsided.

Thankfully he thought about the girl who had taught him the spell. If she wasn't with Harry, he certainly would try to hook her up. That someone two years below him was this adept at casting healing spells, was still very confusing. His own magical core was far larger – at the moment at least. But despite her lower power she was somehow able to infuse her spells in a weird way. Two weeks ago he had got a similar cut in the training. Hermione – Hermione of all people – had put a tad too much force behind a spell, still quite upset because of Draco Malfoy's behavior an hour ago. Cedric had been unable to protect his side in time and a suddenly very pale Hermione watched him going down.

_She had very soft and cool hands_, Cedric remembered. Daphne had healed the wound in no time and used the opportunity – _if I remember correctly she even thanked Hermione for offering this opportunity to her_, Cedric grinned – to teach all of them that special spell. His own spell was – like Harry's a few minutes ago – not nearly as strong as the one cast by Daphne. But it would be enough for now.

Carefully getting up Cedric was happy that the injury didn't trouble him anymore. Just as he wanted to continue with the task, a yell got his attention. A second one followed seconds later.

_Fleur!_

Hastily he looked up to Madam Sprout. A third yell of pain forced him to a decision. I can't wait. Hoping not to stumble into any creature or plant Cedric hurried onwards, praying that he wouldn't be too late. The thought that another teacher was flying above Fleur didn't cross his mind at the moment. This was the time of being a gallant cavalier.

.

Fifty steps away another gallant cavalier – one with, as his best friend always said, a world-saving-thing – heard the same yells of pain. For a split second the pictures crossed his mind of Daphne's possible reactions, but he had no time for this. Like Cedric he rushed forward, hoping to find a clear path.

But he had no such luck.

Turning around a corner he found himself eye to eye with a pack of Acromantulas. Only two of them were of the larger, pony-sized kind. The rest was smaller, more like a dog. Not that this calmed him in any way. Lightning fast and without a real plan he whipped up his wand and sent three stunners against them. Two of the smaller beast really went down – at least for a moment. But the third hit one of the greater spiders and did nothing to impress it.

Hastily he turned around and run back, right the way he had come a few minutes ago.

"Glacius!"

Holding his wand down and hoping to cast it correctly while he was moving, he used the sand-to-ice spell Daphne had demonstrated so successfully against Sirius. No, his ice wasn't as shiny, but he had other intentions. And really: The spiders apparently had problems to follow on the ice. And the hedges weren't strong enough to support them. After a while Harry dared to stop and turn around. The ice had allowed him to outdistance the spiders and now it was time to empower his spells.

_Thirty yards._

Harry breathed deeply, trying to calm his nerves.

_Twenty yards._

He imagined his friends behind his back, wounded and without wands. He had to defend them.

_Ten yards._

The spiders had nearly reached him. Magical power was rushing through Harry's body and mind, filling the air with crackles.

_Three Yards._

Two incredible powerful winter sleep spells left his wand, hit the two largest spiders and instantly stopped them. One of them crashed into the hedge, the other one came to a stop only two feet in front of Harry. Dexterous he dodged the attacks of the smaller spiders and jumped onto the ice, hoping that Sirius' glue spell would be enough. The result was very weak glue and his steps certainly not very secure. Harry imagined quite a few laughs from the spectators as he hurried onward again. But he was still able to outdistance the last Acromantulas after a while.

_They've lost their appetite_, Harry hoped when he heard no more steps behind him. Suddenly there were no more hedges at his sides, only a large clearing in front of him – a clearing with a single pedestal in the back third. Harry stopped flabbergasted.

_The Goblet of Fire. I have reached it._

Harry looked around, somehow expecting that the other Champions would be there too. But none of them was visible. _This can't be_.

Slowly, his suddenly very heavy feet dragging behind, Harry walked towards the Goblet. Several times he stopped and looked around again. Nobody was there. Only he, Tonks and the Goblet.

_What shall I do now? _

.

_I should fetch him now._

He knew that it would be the best and simplest, but still he didn't found it in his heart to intervene before Harry had touched the Goblet. It was a question of principle.

_The Master will be furious should something go wrong now, Harry, so hurry up._

Eagerly he watched the boy.

.

_I'm too late. I'm too late_, Cedric groaned. The yelling had stopped and still there was no Fleur in sight. He passed the last corner and stopped cold. His heart certainly missed a beat or two as he watched in disgusted fascination how Viktor Krum raised his heavy foot, only to put it down a second later with much force – directly on the hand of an unconscious Fleur Delacour. Hand bones and wand were unable to endure the force and the vicious noises of breaking wood and bone reached Cedric's ear.

"Viktor!" He yelled, forgetting that it wasn't the cleverest idea to call Viktor's attention to him.

The large boy whirled around and without a second of hesitation sent a Reducto at the Hufflepuff. Without his training with Harry's friends this first spell would have already finished the fight. But so he was able to nimbly dodge it and sent his own Expelliarmus at his attacker. Viktor easily protected himself with a shield and started to walk calmly towards Cedric, shielding himself against his attacks and sending his own spells at him in fast order.

_He's too strong._

Within seconds Cedric figured out that he wouldn't be able to breach Viktor's shields and that he was securer in dodging his attacks instead of using his own Protego. The cutting spells, that followed the Reducto, were no surprise. But Cedric paled as he noticed the last spell he dodged had been a vicious Messorius – a forbidden Reaper spell. _It is only a question of time until he'll start to use Unforgivables._

_Why didn't Madam Sprout intervene?_ Cedric heard her angry voice and the even angrier shouts of the Durmstrang teacher that had accompanied Viktor. But he had no time to wait for her. Cedric dodged the next spell through a somersault to the right. The move surprised Viktor enough to allow Cedric a counterattack. Hastily he sent two spells at the plants in Viktor's rear, further distracting him through a stunner against his shield. Before Viktor had a chance to notice the new danger, some branches started to ensnare him from behind. Angry the Durmstrang Champion tried to free himself with cutting spells, but this offered his back to Cedric, who didn't hesitate to use the opportunity.

"Expelliarmus! Petrificus Totalus!"

For a moment Cedric felt the dire urge to kick the boy and it was only with much self-restraint that he avoided doing so. Instead he hurried at Fleur's side. Far too late Mistress Ancuille – the Potion Mistress from Beauxbatons and assigned teacher – landed at his side. Instead of starting instantly with some healing spells, she only sighed and shook her head.

"Help her!" Cedric yelled. He knew that his own skills wouldn't be enough to make a real difference.

Mistress Ancuille only sneered and answered something in French, still making no move to follow the order. _Harry told me that this bitch hated Fleur but how can she behave like this?_ With relief he noticed Madam Sprout landing behind her French 'colleague', shoving her out of her way, directly into the hedge. "I tend to her," she reassured Cedric. "Go ahead. I'll follow in a few minutes."

Cedric hesitated for a moment. Then he nodded and left.

.

_**The Finish**_

.

_I'm too late._

He had reached the destination of the task at last, only to see Harry sitting in front of the Goblet.

_Why is he sitting there? Why isn't the Goblet in his hands?_

Slowly he stepped nearer. He didn't want to startle Harry and he didn't want to win now without getting to know Harry's intent.

Hundreds of spectators followed the events eagerly. They had stared at the screen for minutes already, unable to believe that the boy simply stopped right in front of the Goblet.

"The Goblet is beautiful, isn't it?" Harry's voice was surprising warm and full of emotions. "So many dangers, so many efforts – and there he is resting on his pedestal like he wasn't interested in all of this."

Cedric stopped a few yards away. "He was there two hundred years ago and he'll still be there when our grandchildren try to reach him."

Harry turned around and smiled. "You're quite the philosophe, Cedric, aren't you?"

Cedric shrugged. "Not really." His face hardened. "Viktor attacked Fleur ... and me too."

Harry paled slightly but nodded. "Is Fleur well?"

"Madam Sprout is healing her right now. Viktor broke her hand. I don't know what other spells he used on her."

Harry sighed. "He had too much desire to win."

"And you not?" Cedric nodded questioningly towards the Goblet.

Harry shrugged again. "Not really. You should get it. You're the Champion of Hogwarts, not I."

"I could comply with your idea," Cedric grinned. "But Daphne would kick your ass for this and mine too."

Harry's grin broadened. "She told you that?"

"Hermione did."

Both boys stared at the Goblet for a while in silence.

"We could make a deal," Cedric slowly said. "You'll get the Goblet and I get a date with Daphne. What do you mean?"

"Not a chance," Harry grinned.

Cedric sighed. "I feared so much. Let's finish this. Go get the Goblet and let's go home."

"You're sure?"

Cedric sighed. "Go on before I change my mind."

Harry nodded, put his wand away and walked to the pedestal. Hesitating for a moment he grabbed the Goblet, holding his breath for a moment. But nothing happened.

"It's really time," Tonks commented as she landed. "It got a bit boring up there."

Harry smiled weakly, too exhausted to show any stronger reaction. With confusion he watched Tonks reaching for her wand. She raised it, pointed it towards Cedric and uttered: "Avada …"

"NO!" Without a thought Harry threw the Goblet at her.

"… Kedavra!" The Goblet hit the arm and forced it to the side. The green light missed Cedric's chest by a few inches only. Reaching for his wand Harry noticed too late that 'Tonks' jumped at his side, some silvery object in her hand. Cedric's spell missed her and he had no time for a second one, as Tonks dragged Harry between her and the Hufflepuff.

"It's time for a visit," Tonks hissed. Only a loud plop announced the use of a portkey.

A second later a very pale and stunned Cedric was the only person on the clearing, only the Goblet on the ground speaking of the sudden events.

.

The audience was deathly silent.

Daphne sobbed.

Turning around to Ana she forced the words: "He isn't there anymore, Ana. I can't feel him anymore."

.

_**A/N**_

_8,200 words are in this part alone. I thought it to be better to split the third task. Chapter 48 will be about the cemetery, then an epilogue and a summary. _


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